Shattered Time
by Yuffie-Girl
Summary: Mirai BV. After going back to his timeline Mirai Trunks revives the long dead Z warriors using the Namekian Dragonballs. Problems soon arise, however... And what of the tumultuous relationship bw Bulma and Vegeta? Ch8: Vegeta vs. Trunks...oh no!
1. Victory in the Past

Disclaimer: The day I learned that I didn't own DBZ was a sad, sad day indeed.

Shattered Time

By Yuffie-Girl

Category: Romance/Drama, maybe? A lot of it at first is just dramatic, but the romance is always in the background and will come more into play as each chapter goes on. This is also slightly AU. I GUESS this could happen in Trunks's timeline, but I've shifted some of the characters' ages a few years to fit them into the story a little better. And I'm also by no means an expert on the Cell Saga, so some of the events may seem off. 

Rating: PG-13 for language and adult situations. Don't really have anything to deserve this rating until later, but better safe than sorry. 

Author's Note: Just to say this again, this IS a B/V. It doesn't really look like it right now, since the first few chapters are actually in Mirai Trunks's POV, but if you read on you'll see why I did it this way. Don't worry; the B/V will definitely be there! :) 

__

Time is a cruel thief to rob us of our former selves. We lose as much to life as we do to death. -Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey

Lying on his back and watching as the stars peeped out one-by-one into the blackening night sky, Trunks couldn't help but grin as he allowed his mind to replay again and again the wondrous events that had occurred in recent days. 

Had he known about what was going to happen just six months ago he would have scoffed at everything in disbelief. It all seemed so far-fetched, just another fairytale that had wormed its way into his mind to escape from the horrible reality that he had grown accustomed to, but now...what had seemed impossible before had actually happened. The Androids were no longer a threat...this timeline was now saved...even Cell had met an unfortunate end, thanks to Gohan's sudden and unexpected ascension to Super Saiyan just a few days ago. Thanks to the efforts of everyone, everything was going to fall perfectly into place and life here was going to resume as normal. Well, with the exception of one thing...

It had been a bittersweet ending to it all, really, though, he mused; the death of Son Goku was the last thing that anyone had expected, even from a pessimist like himself. Everyone who knew him was saddened and shocked; it had all happened so quickly, with hardly even a hasty goodbye. Even Vegeta seemed to be (a little) unsettled at the fact that his sickeningly optimistic rival was no more. Yeah, the death of Goku had hit them all hard, even himself, and he had only known the guy for a combined period of a few weeks at most.

However, there was one thing that the Z fighters had realized afterwards, and that was that under no circumstances would their friend want them to constantly mourn his death. Hence came the idea for the funeral/celebration of the defeat of Cell that was currently going on in Capsule Corp's backyard. Trunks smiled again. His mother knew how to do a lot of things, but throwing a good party was one of the better ones. 

And, speak of the devil...

"Trunks!" He heard the voice calling out to him a few yards away. "Trunks! Where ARE you?!"

Hastily getting up and brushing himself off, Trunks hurried towards the direction of his mother's voice, eventually bumping into her as he turned a corner. "So THERE you are!" she exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. "We were all wondering where you were! You are, after all, kinda the star of the show!"

Trunks turned a light pink. "Oh, come _on_!" he protested mildly. "I really just gave you guys all the information! I never really did much at all!"

She just smirked at him.

"No, honestly! I just did what I could!"

She shook her head and beckoned him towards the backyard. "Come on, everyone's been wondering where you went off to! Have something to eat at the very least!"

As they walked back towards the swell of happy, well-fed voices, Bulma got right down to business and questioned her son about the reason of his whereabouts. "So why did you go off like that? Sick of the party already?"

He shook his head. "No...no, it's not like that," he replied, a little embarrassed. "It's just that so much has happened in the past couple of months, stuff I never even thought was possible. I just needed some time by myself to sort it all out, that's all."

She nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it's just been crazy these past few months. But then again---life _never _gets dull when you hang out with the people that I do! I should actually be used to it by now, but each time something even weirderhappens."

"I definitely believe that!"

Bulma paused for a moment to look at her son calculatingly. "So...are you still going through with what you said?" she finally questioned him, touching his shoulder lightly with her delicate hand. 

"Yeah, and better sooner than later. Time still passes normally while I'm gone, even if it's in a totally different future than this one's. I'd like to stay for awhile yet, but-"

"Not even for a couple more days?"

"I wish I could, Mom, but I'm needed at home! Those Androids probably haven't been exactly pushing up daisies back there, and-"

She cut him off with a slice of her hand. "All right, all right, I get it! I guess you DO have a point...I was just thinking that you probably needed a break from all that or something."

They slowed as they finally approached the party, which was still going strong despite being five hours old. Trunks couldn't help but grin as he scanned the crowd of people milling around and having a good time. All of them were there...all the people that his mother had held back tears in memory of as she told him stories about them. Tien viciously making fun of Krillin's bald head...Yairjobe hot-airing some stupid story about cutting off Vegeta's tail...Piccolo sitting cross-legged by a bush and looking like a rather ugly lawn gnome...Master Roshi hitting on Chi-Chi---WHAT?!

Bulma saw it too. "Oh, shit!" she groaned, quickening her pace. "You've really done it now, Roshi, hitting on widows! Sorry about this, Trunks!" She pushed him towards the punch table and hurried off to the scene of the crime. 

Trunks sighed and shook his head. If some horrible disaster ever occurred and even the earth itself was almost obliterated, only two things would remain---cockroaches and, unfortunately, Master Roshi.

"Hey, heard you had a rough time the past couple of days, kid!" Trunks jumped as a large, calloused hand grabbed his shoulder and he found himself face to face with Yamcha. 

"Uh...yeah, I did kinda die, y'know," Trunks replied nervously, scanning the former bandit's face for any sign of contempt. Even though he could probably drop the guy with just one punch, he had always been a little intimidated by Yamcha. After all, hadn't he been Bulma's boyfriend for practically all of her life until she met his dad? To say the least he probably wasn't too happy about the situation right now...

But Yamcha just smiled and patted his shoulder. "Yeah, it's kinda wild, isn't it? The time I went to Otherworld I wondered at first if I'd just been on some weird acid!"

Trunks shrugged. "I really wasn't there long enough to see much."

"Yeah, we got you back pretty quick. Good thing you've never been revived with the Dragonballs before; otherwise you would've had quite a long stay! Honestly, we're lucky we had everything ready like we did; Vegeta was starting to throw a fit!"

Trunks blinked in disbelief. "What?" 

Yamcha continued on airily, "Yeah, well, your father has his share of tantrums, Trunks. We usually just ignore him or get Goku to shut him up, but this time he was just a little too loud for us to block out!"

"No, no, the part BEFORE that," Trunks prompted, a little confused. Had he _heard _that correctly?

Now it was Yamcha's turn to be confused. "What, you didn't hear the story yet? About what happened after you died?"

"No..."

Yamcha massaged his neck as he attempted to tell the story the best he could. 

"We-ell," he began, "you got yourself killed by Cell, and- and- Vegeta, um, -oh, I don't know- sort of -well- flipped out. He just tore after Cell and started beating the crap out of him. Well, I can't say that he beat the crap out of him, 'cause he nearly got the ax himself, but---you know what I mean!"

Trunks, more than a little flabbergasted, ventured a glance over at his father, who was, as usual, sitting by a bush and scowling, looking as if he'd rather drill his groin repeatedly than be where he was. Was the man even _capable _of caring about someone? Or was Yamcha just pulling his leg?...

Yamcha obviously at this point must have seen the look on Trunks's face, because he then added hastily, "No, it's true! It really happened! Yeah, it's kinda hard to believe, but-" -he jerked his thumb over towards the Saiyan in question- "-I guess his heart isn't made of stone after all!"

The two men fell silent for a moment, each deep in their own respective thoughts. Trunks himself was still a little surprised at Yamcha's story. It seemed so totally _unlike _Vegeta to do a thing like that, even if they did have a bond in blood. Most of the time he even barely acknowledged him as his own son!

The question suddenly flew out of Trunks's mouth before he could even consider it properly. "Uh, Yamcha?" he blurted out before his brain could even register what he was actually asking. "Did you---did you love my mother?" Upon saying it he could have slapped himself. He really had no right asking that! But still...he had always wondered...

Yamcha's face hardened momentarily, but he DID answer the question. "I did, or I thought I did," he replied quietly, staring back over towards Vegeta. "But---but I guess the timing just wasn't right for us. We'd been together for almost fifteen years, but we still found ourselves going nowhere. Why waste the best years of your life trying to work something out when you know that it just won't anyway?" He trailed off with a sigh.

Trunks raised his eyebrows in amazement. From the time he had first met him out in the desert after Frieza had made his reappearance, he was always under the impression that Yamcha had been sort of a clown who had a hard time taking things seriously. But now he looked serious. Dead serious. 

"So that's why we broke it off a couple years before you were born," he continued on, despite the fact that he looked more than a little uncomfortable. "It wasn't really anybody's fault, one way or the other, we just thought it was time. And then after that your mother starting noticing Vegeta, and then they - well - they had you!"

Again a little annoying voice screeching in Trunks's brain was telling him to shut up and keep listening to Yamcha, but his mouth, stubborn as always, seemed to move of its own accord. "Yeah, well, I _know _the story from there," he voiced, leaning back against the table, "but I'm finding it hard to believe that my mother is actually happy about this. For crying out loud, my father doesn't even love her! To tell you the truth, after being here I don't even have a clue why she misses him so much in my timeline! I mean, he can be so cruel, so heartless-"

But Yamcha shook his head and cut him off with a sweep of his arm. "That's where you're wrong, Trunks. As much as I hate to admit it myself, I think he _does _love her. It's not exactly obvious, since he hides it well, but when they're not in public I think he can get rather -erm- affectionate, if _that's _the right word." He couldn't help but shudder involuntarily at the end of his sentence.

"But WHY?!" Trunks was finding this rather hard to believe. "I mean, if you love somebody that much, then why should you hide it?"

"I know why. Weakness." Yamcha shook his head as if he didn't understand it himself. "He's afraid that showing it will make him look weak." He stared over at the glowering Saiyan warrior a second time. "Listen, kid," he added with a tone of finality, "I really don't get something like that myself, since I've been rather-" -at this he turned a rather interesting shade of red- "_free_ with my love, if you'd like to call it that, but there ARE people out there like this. It's just the way you're brought up, ya know?"

"I hope you're right," was all Trunks said, gazing over in Vegeta's direction himself. 

Yamcha, who at this point spontaneously decided that he had had enough serious conversation for one night, took one last swig of his gasoline-like alcoholic beverage and turned to leave. "Well, be seein' ya around, kid, if you ever decide to come back for a visit. Take care of your mother, all right? Oh, and-" -he again pointed towards Vegeta- "-try not to worry about those two. Time'll take care of it." With that he turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Trunks continued to stand and stare at the ground, his glass of punch tightly encircled in his hand, the things that Yamcha had just said echoing loudly in his brain. Could there be a figment of truth in his words? Was the relationship between his mother and father, unlike in his timeline, not doomed after all? Too bad he'd probably never know...

But then he looked up after awhile, deciding that there was no use thinking about it when he only had this night. He looked up, and that was when he saw something rather...odd.

Bulma had apparently finished with kicking Master Roshi's ass all the way to the moon, as she was now kneeling near the bush and talking quietly to Vegeta. She herself was smiling rather shyly and that constipated look seemed to have left his father's face. Trunks continued to watch with his mouth slightly open as Bulma then proceeded to lean in and kiss him hard. When the two pulled away a few seconds later, Trunks's sharp Saiyan eyesight discerned something very important despite the unreliability of the failing light.

His father was blushing.

***

"Are you STILL up?" Trunks started in his chair as Bulma, now in her bathrobe and slippers, turned the corner and entered the kitchen, a steaming cup of cocoa in hand.

Trunks looked up at her. "Uh...yeah," he replied slowly. "I can't really sleep tonight. Big day tomorrow and everything."

She nodded and took the seat across from him. "Yeah...guess you've got a point. So have you decided what to do once you get back?"

He thought for a moment. "I really don't know," he finally mused with a shake of his head. "I can do more now than ever, so maybe it's time that I took on those Androids again. Hopefully I can do more than just hold my own this time around."

"I think it's definitely worth the risk, Trunks," Bulma replied quietly. "How you have to live---it must be terrible. Even compared to what _we _just had to go through." She sighed heavily. "Hopefully now it'll end up being peaceful for us here."

"All I can say is that I learned a lot here." Trunks smiled as he reached across the table and grabbed his mother's hand. "I've heard stories about all these people and places for years, and now I finally get a chance to meet everyone! It was great. All of it. You guys. What happened. The Dragonballs. All of it."

Bulma's brow furrowed as if suddenly remembering something. "Yeah, that's right," she muttered, almost as if to herself. "How was it that Piccolo and Kami died? Didn't you try to protect them so you could keep using the Dragonballs? Is Kami even still alive, perhaps?" she questioned him in a louder voice. 

He shook his head sadly. "I don't know anything about that...no one knows what exactly happened in that last battle. Gohan was knocked out early on, and by the time he woke up it was -well- all over. But as for the Dragonballs, I'm sure that they don't exist any longer in my time. We would have picked 'em up on the radar at some point if otherwise."

Bulma propped her head up on her elbows and mused, "Well, THAT was a fool's hope. I was thinking that maybe, just maybe---oh, forget it! The Dragonballs on Earth aren't powerful enough to fix everything that needs fixing, anyway!"

Trunks looked confused. "What, there are more Dragonballs than just on Earth?"

"What, no one told you?" Bulma questioned him, more than a little surprised. "There are Dragonballs on Namek, where Piccolo and Dende originated from, as well. They're actually a lot different than the ones here---they're a lot more powerful, for one thing. We were able to revive over a hundred Namekians with those after Frieza murdered almost everyone there!"

"And they still exist?!"

"Yeah, of course! After the whole thing with Frieza, the Nameks resettled on a new planet and took their Dragonballs with them. Really, I'm surprised that no one told you this..." She shook her head confusedly.

"Mom doesn't like to talk about the old days very much; I usually only get bits and pieces of what happened," Trunks replied very quietly, putting his hands back in his lap. _(And THAT was her Achilles heel)_, he didn't add out loud. For an idea was conceiving rapidly in his mind...

If Bulma in any way had guessed what her son was getting on to, then she made no indication of knowing. Instead she stood and headed to the doorway. "Well, I'd talk with you all night if I could, Trunks, but I can barely keep my eyes open!" she exclaimed, stifling a yawn. "I'll wake you up at a decent time so you can leave bright and early, if that's what you still want." She paused for a moment to scowl. "I'll probably be wide awake anyway. Your father snores. Loud."

Completely in a daze, Trunks stood up to leave himself, feeling less powerless than he had in years.

***

It was the dead of night, but Trunks tossed and turned restlessly in his bed. He was thinking, still thinking; the words of his mother echoed and spiraled within his mind.

__

"What, no one told you? There are Dragonballs on Namek, where Piccolo and Dende originated from, as well. They're actually a lot different than the ones here---they're a lot more powerful, for one thing. We were able to revive over a hundred Namekians with those after Frieza murdered almost everyone there!"

It absolutely made sense, that there was another set of Dragonballs originating from the same place. Why had no one thought of this before?! Or, more importantly, why had no one told him about it?! 

Another set of Dragonballs, with another dragon and an entirely different code of conduct, no less. And more powerful? Did that mean these could transcend barriers that the Earth's Dragonballs couldn't? Things like death itself? Could this mean that-

Perhaps if he hadn't looked up in that brief moment he wouldn't be planning this. Perhaps if he hadn't seen his parents actually looking happy together he wouldn't be considering it. But now he did for sure know his next move. And had a fully formulated plan.

He was going on a road trip. To Namek. 

Author's Note: Thanks for reading all the way down here! :D This is my first true shot at a fic that isn't humorous (I've had fics where I try to start out serious but it ends up the opposite), so forgive me if it's lame or overdramatic or just plain sucky. I've had this idea in my head for ages, but it's more like practice than anything else. The more I write this (in theory), the better I'll get at it. Thanks for reading! (and hopefully reviewing!)


	2. Back to the Future

Disclaimer: If DBZ were mine I honestly wouldn't be typing this disclaimer right now. No, if DBZ were mine right now I'd be laughing manically as I rolled around in piles and piles of gold, waiting impatiently for my gentleman manservant to drop off more gold for me to roll around in. Er- um - so I really don't own it!

Author's Note: Thank you to those who read and reviewed! I can't believe people liked it! Um...and to answer someone's question...uh yes, pretty much everyone WILL be revived, with a few exceptions (like Goku, since he died of illness). Vegeta's not the only one who will be a big part of the story; Gohan will play a huge role in everything as well. 

As I said, thanks for reading! Hang on for awhile and you won't be disappointed. It's not my best writing right now, as I need some background before more happens, but things start to get more exciting by chapters three and four, when I get more into the main plot. I haven't really written a lot about emotions before and I need to be able to take it slow.

Here is Chapter Two:

Bulma gave her son one last squeezing hug. "Oooooh, this is so hard," she moaned, the beginnings of a few tears starting to leak out of her large blue eyes. "You've grown into such a fine young man; I can only hope that MY Trunks turns out to be like you when he's just as old!"

Trunks grinned as he returned the embrace. "I'm just glad that he doesn't have to go through what I did," he replied seriously, staring his mother right in the face, which, of course, was looking younger than what he was used to. She didn't have any wrinkles yet, no lines; her eyes weren't full of the usual constant worry. 

"Make sure to spoil his brains out!" he added with an afterthought. 

"Oh, you bet I will! And I'll do the same for---for his siblings later on!" Trunks noted that she had a creepy gleam in her eye but decided that he'd probably be better off not knowing. 

"Well, I've held you up enough," she added a minute later, breaking the hug. "You get back home, but remember to be careful! There are millions of people depending on you!"

"There aren't even a million people left on earth, Mom," Trunks replied darkly, a sense of gloominess suddenly descending upon him as it fully dawned on him for the first time that he was really going back...there.

Her face fell. "Well---you know what I mean, Trunks. Just be careful, OK? Especially on the way to Namek---even with new technology it'll take at least four days!" At this Trunks opened his mouth in surprise, but she put her finger to his lips to silence him. "Honestly, son, you think I'm stupid?!" she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "I figured you might try it if I gave you a little push! The coordinates for Namek are Z460Z, X432F AAA. Well, on a Capsule Corp ship, anyway..." She trailed off.

"So- so you think it'll work?"

"Well yeah, as long as you're smart about the wishes! Porunga grants three---but there are certain rules involved. You shouldn't have too much trouble, though. And don't tell the Nameks that you're Vegeta's son---they, uh, don't like him very much, to say the least. But just be careful, alright?" She patted his shoulder.

"Thanks for everything, Mom."

"No problem! You just get everything back to normal over there! I mean, we wouldn't want the future me to be -well- _deprived _of your father, now would we! And besides, I'm not sharing!"

"Eeeeeeeeeeuwwwwwwww!!! Moooooo-ooooom!"

***

After the urge to barf had finally worn off, Trunks gave a final farewell to his young mother and flew off into the early morning sunshine. It was a short fifteen minute flight over to the time machine; he had hidden it in one of the densely forested areas about a hundred miles or so from West City. 

As he began to head towards his destination he stared at the bustling people and ultra-modern skyscrapers in the city below him. What a peaceful, peaceful place...part of him actually wished that he could stay forever. Another time where evil had never won, where he could live happily and never have to fight a battle again...but he knew he had to go back. His mother and Puar were anxiously awaiting the news, at any rate, and he'd never even THINK of abandoning them to fend for themselves. They were probably already dead with worry, since he had already stayed longer than planned because of Cell. 

He would miss it all, though. His new (and old) friends, the adventures they had shared, and the peaceful world he had heard so much about that he had finally gotten a chance to see. Now he saw why his mother almost cried every time she talked about it. To lose all that, almost everything that was precious to her---he was surprised she hadn't gone insane from the weight of it all. 

But it was time for a change. Whether or not he had gotten strong enough to defeat the Androids in his own time he could only guess, but it was worth a shot. He had at least been strong enough to hold his own against Cell, at any rate, and Cell was probably ten times as worse than any Android. Therefore he'd at least try it. Today, in fact.

He touched down in an especially thick grove and presently found the time machine, which was already beginning to get grown over by some strong vines. He stared at it silently for a moment; for some reason the sight of it made him feel strangely emotional. 

__

(So this is it...I'm really going back. Back to that awful place. I never even really realized how awful it was until a few days ago...)

He stiffened as he continued to stare, the Ki within his body surging more restlessly than usual. _(Oh, what am I saying? It's home, isn't it? And at least I can do more about making it less awful than before...right?) _He couldn't afford to be stupid at the moment. Especially when he had people waiting for him anxiously back at home...people he loved. 

He had raised his hand to begin the tedious process of blasting the vines off the time machine when suddenly and out of nowhere someone impatiently cleared their throat behind him. Trunks literally jumped about a mile into the air; the ball of Ki that had been forming in his hand flew out of control, violently ricocheting off the nearby trees and nearly hitting him before finally slamming into the ground near his feet. 

"Damn it all, you stupid boy!" someone snarled viciously. "That freaking thing almost HIT me!!"

Trunks immediately whirled around in response, but he didn't even have to look to know who it was.

Vegeta.

Yes, strangely enough, the person standing in front of him _was _his father. No other person on earth could even beginto rival the angry glare that was currently being shot at him, at any rate. He looked a little tired and grumpy (although the latter wasn't unusual) and Trunks honestly hoped no one he knew would have to tell him that he had a large twig stuck in his hair, but, more importantly...what the HELL was he doing here?!

"Er---hi, Dad," was all he managed to come up with, albeit a little lamely. "Out for a morning walk?"

Predictably, Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Of course, you moron."

"I thought so," Trunks replied politely, pretending to ignore the barb. 

A long, heavy silence...

"Well, why ARE you here?!" Trunks finally exclaimed in exasperation, after the staring match that had ensued had lasted for about thirty seconds. "I'm sure it's not because you want to come along!"

Vegeta stuck his nose in the air. "Of course not, boy. Why would _I _want to go along with you to that dump?!"

"Well then, _what IS it_?!" Trunks prodded him on pointedly. 

Vegeta just rolled his eyes again, looking as if the reason he had come had been obvious. "I came to tell you to be _careful, _boy. To not get full of it. I'll admit that you're strong, kid, perhaps even stronger than me, but still maybe not strong enough."

Trunks almost died in surprise. There had been times where his father had done some very un-Vegeta-like things (like flipping out when he had been killed by Cell, for instance), but this probably was the queen of them all. Whether he was going to admit it or not...had he actually come to say...good-bye? Had Yamcha actually been..._right_, perhaps?

"Don't let your temper get the best of you, boy," Vegeta went on, crossing his arms in his usual imperious way. "You're the only one left, and if you go down there'll be no Kakarot to clean up after your sorry ass." He spat bitterly on the ground. "Just take care of your mother. I'm sure she's been through hell just because _I _lost."

Trunks now felt like he was in the dead center of the Twilight Zone. Vegeta---caring about someone besides himself?! The same man who had thoughtlessly razed planets, killed people, and even tried to blow up the Earth with a Ki ball?! This was quite a far cry from even a few days ago! 

"Well---um, I'll try, Dad."

"No, you idiot boy, you _will _do it!"

At this point Trunks paused awkwardly. "And---and what about _you_?" he finally mumbled, instantly regretting that the loud mouth he had inherited from his mother had opened itself once again. 

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "What the hell do you mean?!"

"Well...are _you _going to do the same?"

"You mean, stay on this pathetic mudball of a planet?!" he snorted. "Even if I wanted to leave, do you think I have much choice?!"

"So is that a yes?"

"_Yes_," Vegeta spat, rolling his eyes for what must have been the millionth time. "That is a _yes_. What the hell's the big deal?!"

"Let's put it this way, Dad," Trunks said quietly, looking his father in the eye. "Even if it's just _you, _I'm a lot better off with a father than without one."

Vegeta snorted and refused to say a word more.

***

__

Bulma stifled a cry as he wordlessly turned and headed for the door. Refusing to ignore the sense of dread that constantly gnawed away on her stomach, she blocked the way out with one deft movement and cried pleadingly, "W-wait a second! You can't just go...like this!"

He gritted his teeth impatiently. "I can go however I WANT, woman! Now let me through!"

"No! No, not until you promise-"

"Promise WHAT?! Promises are worth nothing! You know that as much as anyone!"

"That we'll end this---that you'll come out of there alive! Vegeta, I-I...it took something this bad for me to say it, but...we need to talk if---no, WHEN you return."

Vegeta laughed humorlessly. "Since WHEN did you ever care about my safe return, wench?! When your precious little hide is threatened?"

She touched his shoulder. "Just promise me, Vegeta. Please..."

"Oh, all right, all right...I PROMISE. Now will you GET OUT OF THE WAY?!"

Reluctantly backing off in order to let him through, she stared at him with tears in her eyes as he slammed the door shut behind him and headed for the compound gate, not even bothering a glance behind him.

~~

It was all so hazy now. The events, the words, the actions... Sixteen years was a long time for anyone to remember anything exactly as it had happened. Bulma's memories were no exception to this rule, even though there were parts to the whole story that she remembered like yesterday. 

She sighed heavily as she snuggled further into the dusty old recliner that had always been Chi-Chi's favorite. She was sick of hiding, sick of being unable to roam freely like she had back when the world was free. The Sons' house, safely shielded by a stretch of rough forest and Mount Paoztu, might have been a logical place to live, especially to raise a young child, but it seemed so cut off from the rest of the world. Even if that world WAS suffering. 

The house itself was virtually unchanged from the times in which the Son family was still safe and whole. It still had the same furniture, the same hangings on the walls...even the same feeling of chaotic messiness every time one entered the house. _(That's the real reason why I don't like it here, I guess. Too many happy memories here. All the parties we had, all the good times...Every time I walk around in here I just stir up more memories. It's almost as if Goku and Chi-Chi just went away for the day and are coming back any minute...)_

She sighed again and wistfully stared out the window, out at the gray, overcast skies and towards the unruly forest. Even this place itself was by no means safe. The forest had become a dangerous area, filled with outlaws and poor refugees that had run away from other parts of the world. Even the birds dared not sing in there.

__

(Why won't I let go? They're gone, all gone. They've all been dead for years now. And I'm still here, just wasting away... It's just not fair! My forty-third birthday was a week ago...my youth's slipping away through my fingers. Memories are all I've got now...)

Memories...and a good portion of them happened to be bad. _(Goku's death...it was just a taste of what was in store for us all. Without him, we never even had a chance.) _Not long after they had used the Dragonballs to wish the Nameks a new planet, Goku had suddenly became victim to a deadly strain of heart virus, one that had a 90% death rate and killed within a few days. Without medicine or antidotes, no one could do anything but sit and watch him waste away...even a Saiyan could do nothing but succumb to its deadly spell. 

(Everyone loved him so much. His funeral---it was so packed. Full of his friends and admirers, people we met on our journeys. Even Vegeta---even Vegeta swallowed his pride and paid his respects that day. )

The worst, however, was to come about two years later, with the activation of the Androids. After killing Dr. Gero and destroying his laboratory, Androids 17 and 18 went on a rampage, mercilessly razing countless cities further south. The fighters that still remained (Yamcha, Tien, Krillin, Piccolo, Chao-ztu, Gohan, and Vegeta) reluctantly decided to join forces when hearing about the carnage, although the respective groups that they came from had slowly drifted apart due to the fact that Goku, the only thing that they had all had in common, was dead.

_(I remember the last time I saw them, out on the lawn while they waited up for Yamcha. Piccolo was under a tree, looking as serious as ever. Tien looked nervous. And Vegeta _

-well- he was just being Vegeta.) She scowled as she recalled what he had been doing. He had been impatiently pawing the ground with his boot and threatening to "deball that pasty-skinned coward if he didn't hurry his ass up."

__

(They all looked so confident out there. But in all truth they never even stood a chance.) Tears threatened to well out from her eyes as she remembered the absolute blood, debris, and carnage that was waiting for her when she had arrived at the scene of the battle on her air transport with Trunks in her arms. _(Blood...death...they say you can't smell death, but I definitely did there. Nobody was alive...only Gohan, and I sure had to work to get him out from under that rubble. Another hour and he wouldn't have lived.)_

Again, though, the worst hadn't been over. _(Goku always used to say I lucked out a lot. And luck saved my life that day. Because what I saw at the Kame House, I-I-)_ The last thing that had happened was by far the worst. She should have known better, too, but hindsight was 20/20 and she never thought about it before it had actually occurred. _(The Kame House...what a stupid place for the rest of us to stay. We were all so nervous, we all wanted to stay together to feel safe. But that's probably one of the FIRST places that people would look for Goku. When I got back from the battle...everyone there, dead. Everyone except for Puar.) _Puar had been small enough to hide in the medicine chest in the bathroom; being unable to feel out Ki was one of the Androids' few weaknesses. 

So it had been her, Gohan, Trunks, and Puar. They moved around a lot at first, never staying around in one place for long. The Sons' house had eventually proved itself to be untouched and they settled there about two years later. _(Those were the toughest days. Had it not been for those two kids, I might have just kicked the bucket right then and there. But I had to keep going---I needed to get Gohan better and to keep Trunks from living on the street. But from the start I knew that those two were the only ones who had a chance of beating them.)_

She looked down at her calloused hands. _(It's still hopeless for us, really. They're still not dead, but Gohan is. Trunks is strong like his father, but those guys back in the past would have to teach him some pretty good tricks for him to defeat them here. )_

(The past...at least the past me doesn't have to go through what I did. All because of my time machine. My greatest invention yet. If I absolutely have to stay and be miserable here in this stupid dump, then at least the younger me shouldn't have to!)

(There are a lot of risks, that's for sure, but I think that with Goku there, they can do it. Goku always DID save the day, right?)

She stood up and went out into the frigid morning air, staring out at the horizon in expectation of something. _(I wonder if Trunks'll get back today. It's been awhile...that means it's been a long battle.)_

(But maybe he's just having a good time. Being somewhere where he can sleep in peace, where all the people he looks up to are still alive. I can forgive him for that. But I wonder...) 

She kicked at the short, pale grass that grew in the yard, angry at herself for the main but secret reason that she had sent Trunks into the past, which should have been something that she did on her own. _(I'm selfish, really, but there are just some things you can't say. I'm such a coward, not telling him the truth about his father. I just thought that he should see for himself, see it so that I don't have to tell him...)_

(I wonder what'll become of...us in the past. Will it be different? Has it already changed? Is it really what happens that shapes the person, and not what you're born with? It may crush Trunks, seeing it firsthand, but this is something that I can't put into words very well. Or maybe I'm just scared. Scared seems more like it.)

She looked up at the gray skies, hoping that everything would turn out well. _(Yamcha...I miss you. And Vegeta...I so hate to admit it, but I miss you, too. You probably don't miss me, though. You probably hate me. You've probably already forgotten I even exist.)_

(But still...I wish you were here...with me.)

Author's Note: Whew! Hoped you liked it, although this was more of a "explaining what the hell is going on" chapter. Trunks should actually be on Namek either the next chapter or the one after that. And then it begins...

As for the B/V, it'll pretty much be like this, with flashbacks of what was happening before and everything, until Vegeta is revived. Then it's B/V pretty much all the way! However, I will still use Trunks's perspective to tell the story sometimes...

If you read and enjoyed it, then please review. If you read it, liked some parts but have suggestions or advice, please review (constructive criticism is great, especially if it's about my writing style). Hell, if you hated it...please review! I need to see if I'm going in the right direction with this.


	3. Retribution

Disclaimer: Akira Toriyama?? Nope, that's not my name! 

Author's Note: *smiles sheepishly* Wow, I can't believe this! I didn't think that anyone would like this fic at all! Thank you for the kind reviews! :)

Anyway, here's chapter three. We're getting closer now!

***

Trunks stealthily edged his way through a large hole in the barbed wire fence surrounding Capsule Corp. Carefully looking each way just inside to make sure he hadn't roused any of the security guards, he then kept going in the general direction of the main compound, sticking to the shadows and trying not to make any unnecessary noise.

West City was an absolute mess, he had found out upon the moment of arrival back in his timeline. Not that it normally wasn't, but it seemed that the Androids had decided of late to come out and desecrate the area even more. The few people who still lived there, those who were too poor or too weak to leave, refused to leave their dwellings, peering nervously out of cracked windows and trying to keep a low profile. It seemed that Trunks's suspicions _had _been correct; the infamous duo had indeed been busy during his absence, and also feeling murderous at that. 

He managed to get into a small side door without being seen. It was dark inside, and the air smelled strongly of a combination of motor oil and decay. The floor was littered with loose tiles and useless machinery, all coated with a thick layer of powdery dust that stirred as he walked around. It seemed that no one had even entered this section of Capsule Corp in years...

He shook his head sadly at all the decay as he walked deeper and deeper into the eerie darkness. It was hard to believe that he at one point had called this derelict ruin home, not to mention it having been one of the biggest technological strongholds in the world, where state of the art machinery was made and many scientific breakthroughs were accomplished. The place where he, his mother and father, and his grandparents (dead in the first attack on West City) had all lived...

__

(But look at it now. Half the rooms in this place aren't even livable anymore. No, now it's the main base for those two monsters.)

Yes, unfortunately, Capsule Corp, formerly the place where many investors and businessmen had flocked to and begged to be a part of, was now a symbol of fear for the people of West City and in the lands surrounding. Because of its modern facilities and advanced technology, the Androids had quickly taken it over and set it up as their base of operation. It was well-known that some of the labs had repair machinery that the Androids often used to maintenance and regenerate any of their worn out parts. They had even taken the staff hostage, forcing them to be slaves or to service any machinery needed to keep them running. Yes, Capsule Corp was now their main lurking place, and definitely where you could find them when they weren't destroying everything in sight. 

After a few twists and turns in the Western Sector, Trunks finally made it to the lab area. He had been here before quite a few times, both with and without Gohan, to either steal things for his mother or to just spy. Therefore he knew everything there was to know about the regen machines, apart from what his mother had explained. But that didn't matter anymore now. Especially since his main objective of today was to destroy them.

They all went up in the same puff of smoke, melting into a complicated mess of tangled wires and twisted parts. Trunks smiled as he lowered his outstretched palm. Now they couldn't heal themselves during the battle. He had actually thought of doing this before, but it hadn't really mattered back then, as he had been unable to damage his enemies much anyway. But it was a whole different story now...

He sat and waited. They would come. He knew they would come. If they were around they would definitely have heard the explosion in the lab area and would arrive to see what had happened to their equipment. Time was on his side...

After about five minutes he heard the heavy footsteps coming down the hall towards him. They both showed up, side-by-side, both with faces that would have made the toughest fighters wet themselves. 

But Trunks just grinned. Brushing the dust off his dark blue jacket, he took a step forward to greet them, trying to fight the nervousness that was threatening to engulf his stomach. He had never felt more afraid in his life. But also never more assured. The time had come to see just how strong he had really become...it was, in fact, now or never.

18 gritted her teeth. "So...it's you," she hissed, staring over at the smoldering lab area behind him. "I bet you're feeling pleased with yourself, aren't you?"

Trunks shook his head. "Not particularly," he replied quietly.

17 smirked and tossed his head. "I bet not, now that you're way in over your head. Tell me, did you think a stunt like that would actually _increase _your chances of winning?!"

"Not as if it would anyway, not with your pathetic human strength," 18 snorted. "You'd think that after we killed your little friend with ease that you'd get the idea, but I guess some people never learn. Am I right, brother?"

He nodded arrogantly. "But never mind all that. I'm sure we're boring you half to death. Why don't we just make this quick?" With that he strode over towards Trunks, a sadistic smile steadily taking over his face. 

However, Trunks, for once, was a lot quicker. With lightning fast speed he closed the distance between them in a split second and, before 17 had even realized it, grabbed his arm and began twisting it.

17 struggled within Trunks's grasp, but he was unable to escape. "The..._hell_?" he gasped, unsuccessfully trying to free himself with his other arm. "Last time, you couldn't- couldn't even---how'd you get so _strong?!_"

18 watched impassively, her arms crossed over her chest. "Looks like we'll have a challenge for once, brother," she mused, making no move to help him. 

Trunks just grabbed harder, feeling satisfied as he felt the crunch of wires and metal under his fingers. "This is for everyone," he said quietly, his voice starting to quaver with anger. "This is for my family. This is for my friends. This is for everyone that you killed. It's time to pay for what you did." Before either Android could react he had powered up into a Super Saiyan in one brilliant flash of golden light. 

It was time to get down to business...

***

__

"Well, won't you say ANYTHING?! Talk already...say something!"

"..."

"Listen, this won't go away if you just turn your back and refuse to say anything!"

"What is there to SAY, woman?! It was a mistake. All of it."

"And is that ALL?!"

"I have nothing else to say. Now if you've finished with your pointless babble-"

"Now you just wait a minute, you coward! If you just think you're just going to run away from all this-"

"You're treading on thin, THIN ice, wench!"

"Wench, huh?! Is a wench all that I am to you?! Just something that you're going to use whenever you want and then discard when you're done?! "

"..."

"You're always like this! You're never gonna change!" It was then that her pent-up frustration suddenly changed to cold, venom-filled fury as she screamed the words that she had been itching to say for so long. "I- I HATE YOU!! I DON'T JUST DISLIKE YOU, I REALLY HATE YOU!! WHAT I EVER SAW IN YOU REMAINS A MYSTERY! I HATE YOU SO MUCH THAT HATE ISN'T EVEN A BAD ENOUGH WORD!"

"And maybe that's for the best, woman," he spat dejectedly as she stormed out of the room without even a glance behind.

***

Trunks did a victory loop in the air as he sped off towards home, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. Things were finally looking up. Finally...

It had been the shortest battle ever, even shorter than the brief encounters he had had with them before in which his only aim had been to get far, far away. Finally...the Androids were dead, and by his own hand. He hated the explosions, he hated the sound of his fists connecting with their half organic parts, hell, he hated battle in general...but this particular battle was one that made him happier than he had ever been. Now he could go home and tell his mother about his deeds with joy and immense pride.

He grinned as he stared a few hundred feet below, at the pale ground that was heavily riddled with craters and signs of destruction. He could now fix everything, to make the world green and happy again; with a little work from everyone the world could eventually become like the past that he had had a glimpse of. And he could also carry out his plan...

He touched down onto the ground a few minutes later, near the familiar run-down house with its messy yard, which was cluttered with the capsules and machinery that Bulma liked to work on in her spare time. Puar, looking like a little pink blur, immediately flew out to greet him, screaming in her usual high-pitched squeal, "He's back! He's back!"

And she was right. After this last task, which he was going to start as soon as possible, he was going to be back. Permanently. 

Bulma, upon hearing all the commotion, ran out herself, her cerulean hair bouncing around in its ponytail behind her. The Bulma that Trunks had always known looked almost the same as the Bulma in the past; she had aged quite well despite the terrible things that had been going on in the world around her. Her steadfastness had been the one thing that he could always rely on.

"Oh, it's you! I was starting to get so worried!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him tightly. 

Trunks smiled as he looked into her deep blue eyes, now welled up with tears that were threatening to spill out. _(This is the last time you'll EVER be worried, Mom, I'll make sure of that.) _"It's okay, everyone's okay," he soothed, returning the embrace. "It just took a little longer than usual, I'll explain later. But it's all over. The Androids there are no longer a threat." He did not care to add that the Androids _everywhere_, in _any _time, were no longer a threat as well, but he would wait on that one. She needed to be sitting down when he dropped THAT bomb on her. 

She continued to smile. "That's great, that's just great," she replied quietly. "I did what I set out to do, then."

Puar, hovering around above them, wasn't one for mushy greetings. "C'mon c'mon!" she screeched. "Let's get some food! Let's celebrate! I wanna hear about everything! EVERYTHING!"

***

Fifteen minutes later they were all sitting at the rough kitchen table, eating bread and sipping on some weakly brewed tea made of herbs found in the forest. Starvation ran rampant in the world, mostly because the Androids either destroyed the crops or the land that they grew on, but Bulma's household was more well-fed than most. Mt. Paoztu was not only sort of a remote area, but it also had the forest around it, which had enough food for any if you could find it. 

"So tell me what happened," Bulma finally voiced, staring at her son piercingly. "It sounds like everything was a little more complicated than we expected."

Trunks opened his mouth to reply, but Puar quickly cut in, "Tell me how Yamcha was! Is he okay? Did he fight?"

He smiled. "Well-" he started, suddenly reminded of their conversation the previous night. "he's all right---I guess. He never really fought, though. He never would have stood a chance anyway..."

The little cat-like creature giggled. "Good! He hasn't changed! Yamcha's so gentle, he wouldn't hurt a fly! He's broken a few hearts, though!" Needless to say, both Trunks and his mother at to roll their eyes at this one (though perhaps for different reasons). 

Trunks continued with his story. "I won't bore you with every detail, but it looks like some things in the past were changed because of me," he explained, sipping at his tea. "Goku's virus, for one thing. The virus hit him later than it was supposed to, and we had to fight without him for awhile. And then the Androids were a lot stronger than the ones here. It was a good thing everyone was prepared...." He shuddered at one particularly nasty memory, when he had been forced to cut in during Vegeta's fight with 18 just so he could save his life. 

Bulma nodded. "But they're dead?"

"Not dead, but harmless. They don't seem to wanna fight anymore. It makes me want to puke, but it seems that 18 has a little crush on -get this- Krillin!"

"Holy crap..." She looked as shocked as he felt when he had witnessed it all. 

"But that's not all. Once the Androids were out of the way, we had to fight something else that Dr. Gero was responsible for. Cell."

"_Cell_?"

"Yeah, and he damn near killed us all too. Both me and Goku died. I was revived, but Goku -well- couldn't."

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah, he's dead. Gohan managed to get Cell, but Goku sacrificed himself. So yeah...he's dead. Everyone else is fine, though."

Bulma was awed. "Wow," she breathed, "Our time machine- I never would have thought..."

"Well, it's a good thing you did it!" Puar chirruped behind a huge mouthful of bread. "Except for Goku, everything there looks better! And all thanks to you, Trunks!"

"Yeah..."

***

It was a beautiful, starry night outside, one in which it would be a crime to stay indoors. Trunks, Bulma, and Puar had decided to go out and enjoy the cool breeze and the ethereal beauty of the sky. Puar, however, had gotten bored and was already curled up into a little pink ball and snoring loudly beside them, leaving mother and son to talk about deeper matters. They sat together out in the middle of the lawn, discussing the strange events of the past few days in further detail.

"So- how- how was-" Bulma began hesitantly after a long silence. Kami only knew she had been trying to keep her mouth shut until Trunks decided to bring up the subject, but the question continued to pound inside her. Had he seen anything strange while back in the past? Had it bothered him, or had he suspected all along? She longed to be more direct...

"My father, you mean?" Trunks cut in, crossing his ankles. "He was just -well- himself, I guess." He looked at her reprovingly. "You never told me how grumpy he always is!"

"Er -well- that's just the way he is. You get used to it after awhile."

"Once I got to know him, it wasn't so bad. I trained with him for a year, you know, in a chamber that stops time. We _had _to be nice to each other." He then fell silent. There was no way in hell that he was telling his mother about the talk with his father right before his departure. Not yet, anyway. 

Bulma frowned, but didn't talk either. It was Trunks that broke the silence a minute later with, "But enough about that! How were things back here while I was gone?"

"Oh, fine. A couple of stupid bastards tried to rob the garden of what food it has, but a few shots from my laser and they were all tripping over each other."

"Serves 'em right for trying to steal."

"And then I heard on the radio a week ago that all the Desert Metros- north, east, south, and west, have been flattened. And then West City again just three days ago. They must be looking for a fight again, Trunks..."

It was then that he decided to come out from the truth. "Um...Mom, tell me something: is our family prone to swift, sudden heart attacks?"

She looked puzzled. "No...Why?"

"Well -uh- we don't have to worry anymore. I killed the Androids when I got back this morning. I barely broke a sweat fighting them. But it's true. They're dead."

Her jaw was practically scraping the floor. "WHAT?!" she gasped. "Trunks! You shouldn't have! You could have been killed! What a reckless thing to do!"

"But a smart thing," he replied with a smile. "I've gotten quite a bit stronger lately, and I thought it was time. But they're gone. Dead. We can start rebuilding."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh Kami...I- I never- never DREAMED-Oh, Trunks!" She began to wail, burying her head into his chest and sobbing. "It's over, isn't it? It's really over! We don't have to worry anymore!"

"Yeah, exactly," he voiced softly. "We can get the world up and running again, stop the starvation and poverty, even move back to Capsule Corp if you want..."

"Well, of course!" she said in a firm voice, her crying dissipating as quickly as it had started. "That place was our home before those monsters destroyed it! In fact, we start tomorrow!"

"Might as well...everyone in West City knows what I did. Maybe even farther, by now...But I have to tell you something," he started, having decided to start his plan straightaway. "I can't help you for the first ten days or so."

She looked up. "Why not?"

He gritted his teeth. He hated deceiving her like this, but he wanted to surprise her when she saw everyone that she loved alive and well. "Well, Dad was telling me about how much stronger he got in space," he lied through his teeth. "More resistance and everything. I want to train up there for a little bit. You know, get a little stronger, try to get to the second ascension...I want to be a challenge to anything that might come our way in the future." At least THAT part was true. Cell was due to arrive in this timeline in about three years. 

"Are you sure? Can't you wait a little longer?" she prodded, a concerned look on her face.

"Just ten days, Mom. Ten days is all I need- and I'll be right back here working as hard as anyone."

She touched his shoulder. "All right. Just be careful. Space can be dangerous...I learned that much when I went to Namek." She cleared her throat. "We have a good ship in our hangar. It's got a gravity machine and everything, and I'm sure no one's touched it since it's password activated. We'll go to Capsule Corp tomorrow and get it, and then I'll stay behind to begin the clean-up."

Trunks nodded. "So it's decided, then."

She squeezed his hand. "Just be careful, Trunks, that's all I ask...There's something I have to tell you when you get back. Something that you'd better know."

He wondered at this, noticing the look on her face indicating that something was just not right, but he nodded anyway. "All right..."

***

It was another sleepless night for Trunks. Staring out at the full moon and tossing and turning restlessly in his bed, he could do nothing but think about his plans for tomorrow. 

Again, a lot had happened in twenty-four hours. The trip back to his timeline, the final battle with the Androids, and that weird conversation with his father. What a day...

Everything was in place. He had a ship, he had his mother's support (although she didn't know about his little scheme just yet), and he even had the coordinates for New Planet Namek. The only problem was finding the Dragonballs once there. But compared to what he had just been doing, that would probably be a snap...

A peaceful grin spread across his face as he finally drifted off to sleep. Once he had revived everyone, everything would be back to normal.

Author's Note: Whew! I actually think of that one as one of my better chapters. I had trouble getting into it during my first two. Right now I'm working on seven (I've been working on this fic for literally months, whenever I've had time), so expect updates to come pretty frequently for at least awhile. 

Trunks will be on Namek next chapter, so expect the revival and the consequences of it to happen fairly soon. Then the perspectives and points of view will start to shift towards Vegeta and Bulma. I know I'm not very fast paced, but I want certain things to build up so that it's not looking rushed later.

Thanx for reading and, hopefully, reviewing! *Makes big brown puppy-dog eyes* Whether you liked it, hated it, or have suggestions in order to improve certain parts, I'll appreciate it! 


	4. New Planet Namek

Disclaimer: The thought of me ever owning Dragonball Z is a complete joke.

Author's Note: Sorry, sorry, sorry to you readers out there! I've been so busy in the past week that even THINKING about working on this was out of the question. Relatives, shopping, new car, work, evil muses for an Inuyasha fic that REFUSE to leave me alone...you name it, it's happened to me. ~^

***

Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the large, dusty windows of Capsule Corp, giving everything inside a rosy, ethereal glow. The sun was dropping down behind fluffy clouds in a burst of intense crimson light, and the day seemed to be drawing to a tranquil, picturesque close that was just asking to be the month of June on a cheesy business calendar. However, what Mother Nature was doing was an entirely different story from everything else...

It had been a peaceful day, probably the most peaceful in sixteen years. The people of West City, like in other cities all around the world, were by now downright jubilant, celebrating in the streets and cheering the unknown savior who had taken care of the destructive entities that had plagued their lives for so long. Everybody seemed to be out and about, now that they no longer had any reason to cower in their impoverished homes. 

Bulma, however, wasn't partying just yet. After saying farewell to Trunks and sending him out into space in Vegeta's old ship, she got right down to business, gathering together what staff was left (with the incentive of a salary, of course) and started to rebuild her home. Not only did she want at least a shred of her own life back, but she knew that Capsule Corp probably had the means to get West City (at the very least) looking halfway normal within about a year. 

"Ah, it's so good to be back here," she said to herself as she rummaged through the junk and debris in what used to be the living room, in search of things that could be of use to her. "Even if it IS a pigsty."

Pigsty, in fact, wasn't the word for it. Only about a third of the rooms were actually livable right now; the rest were, like this one, either a mess or were destroyed or caved in. It would probably take at least three or four months to get Capsule Corp back to the way it had been before, even with a full staff. 

She paused as she felt something round and plastic under a large, fallen light fixture. "Feels like a capsule," she muttered as she struggled to get it free of some wires. "Wonder what's in it..."

She finally found out a minute later when she tossed it onto the ground and it revealed an ornate little book that had film negatives spilling out of its fat pages. "A photo album..."

She flipped through it and found it to have photos dating back to around a year before the Androids came. "Kami," she breathed as she paused to look at a picture of her holding a newborn Trunks, "I thought I lost this!"

Memories came flooding back unbidden into her mind. There was a picture of Goku and Chi-Chi both sitting peacefully together and laughing. One of Krillin getting kissed on his bald head by Marron, his ditzy girlfriend. There was even one of Piccolo, who glared at her murderously and looked as if he was going to flip her off if she dared take the picture. 

The gem of them all, however, was the last picture in the album, one that made Bulma's eyes well up almost instantly the minute she saw it. It was a picture of her and Vegeta. The only one taken that had the both of them together in it. She was looking into the camera and smiling, and he, predictably, was trying to get away. The only thing that kept him there was her hand, which was linked with his. Bulma had thought about this picture a lot after it was taken. It puzzled her. 

__

(I used to stare at this a lot. It bothered me. Why didn't he just pull away? He could have gotten away; he's stronger than me and he had plenty of time. So why didn't he? It's like he was struggling to decide, and not just about the picture...)

She sighed and safely encapsulated the album again. This was no time for nostalgia. She needed to live in the present right now.

__

(I need to work hard and get things back on track. Not just for me, but for my son too. Vegeta's all in the past, everyone's in the past, I need to live my life. But now that I'm back here it's so hard not to remember...)

***

"Approaching New Planet Namek. Approaching New Planet Namek. Descent into atmosphere will begin in t minus 120 seconds."

Trunks stretched and yawned upon hearing the auto-pilot's announcement over the intercom. He had been resting quietly in his small white bunk, waiting for the time to tediously crawl by. And crawl it did. He wouldn't even have been surprised if his eyes eventually burned a hole in the part of the ceiling he had been staring at for the past six hours.

The trip through space had passed by uneventfully, really. Four days of nothing. No alien ships, no magnetic fields, not even an asteroid had been in his way. Not that that had been a bad thing, though. This had given him plenty of time to rest up, to regain strength from all of the battles he had fought lately. Or to even just stare out the window, out at the black expanses of space, and at the numerous stars and constellations. 

However, this had gotten old after four days, and he was now quite relieved to be within a stone's throw of his destination, he noted to himself as he jumped out of bed and climbed up the thin metal ladder leading up to the bridge. Planet Namek...it had to be an interesting place, although perhaps dangerous. He wasn't sure how the Nameks would react to his presence, much less a request to use the Dragonballs. But he would find out soon...

The planet itself was a breathtaking sight; although it was quite a bit smaller than Earth, it was colored a lush pale green, with a large blue inland sea located towards the equator. Perhaps not exactly anything new or innovative to an experienced space traveler, but definitely a welcome sight for Trunks. Earth hadn't exactly been a beautiful sight to behold from space; the seas were dark and stormy, and the continents were mostly brown, due to the fact that only about fifteen percent of the land now had any greenery growing on it. The Androids, while still living, had done their job well...

__

"Descent into atmosphere now beginning in t minus 60 seconds. T minus 59...58...57...56..."

Trunks let out a nervous sigh as he sat down in the pilot's chair and buckled himself in, watching as the pale green atmosphere of his destination loomed closer and closer. For some reason he had a feeling about what he was going to do...and it wasn't a good one.

***

__

"So- so what do YOU want to happen? What do you want the future to bring for you?"

"I want to train harder, defeat Kakarrot, and blow up the planet."

"Come again?"

"Train harder, defeat Kakarrot, and then blow up the planet. Are you deaf as well as stupid, wench?!"

"Well, geez! I was just asking a QUESTION!"

"Hmph!"

"Oh, hmph yourself, you overgrown monkey! And have you ever thought twice about your plans? Where will you go after you blow this place up, hm?"

"It is none of your concern."

"Oh, yes it is, especially if my blown up remains are floating around in space! Tell me, why DO you want to blow this place up, anyway? It's not like you have a good reason, you know!"

"What if I don't?"

"Urgh...you really DO have issues, don't you?"

"What do you care? I just want to desecrate everything because I hate this mudhole and everyone on it! And when I get the chance, I will!"

"...Even me?"

He chuckled humorlessly. "What, you think you hold some special significance, that I'm some weak fool who will hesitate in the end? You obviously don't have my number, woman...believe me, I have no attachment to you. Nor would you even want it that way..."

***

It was totally different from his mind's eye; it couldn't be farther from what he had been remotely expecting. But what stood before Trunks was indeed reality. The lush emerald grass that sprung under his feet, the tranquil aquamarine sky with its two intense suns glaring down at him, the quaint white dwellings that the Nameks themselves appeared to live in...It was all like a dream. A strange dream. A dream that might even end badly, if it all came down to it...The queasy feeling in his stomach still persisted, but perhaps it was just nerves. If all went well he'd be meeting some almost strangers, after all...

He continued to walk across the green meadow, squinting at the horizon, at where one of the Namek settlements appeared to be. It wasn't too far off now; he had even been able to see the oddly-shaped domes at his landing site. Would the Dragonballs be there? Would they be activated? Would the Nameks even let him use them? The possible outcomes of this expedition were endless...his head reeled from them all...

In fact, his head was reeling so badly that he should have been watching where he was going. It was a tendency of his; to become so wrapped up within himself that he became unaware of his surroundings...A common habit, but a dangerous one, as he found out when he slowly became aware that a large green hand had grabbed ahold of the shoulder of his jacket and refused to let go.

They were absolutely intimidating, although he probably could have taken them out had he wanted to. Trunks jumped where he stood when he saw them for face-to-face for the first time. Three of them, dressed in baggy robes and pants, all quite a bit taller than him, with green skin, large ears, a pair of long antannae, and piercing black eyes with small pupils. They also carried a nasty looking spear apiece.

Although Trunks himself was scared to death, he couldn't help but be awed by them. _(So these are Nameks...I've seen Piccolo, but he wasn't your average Namek anyway...I hope they're not mad at me for trespassing or something...)_

He shook slightly as the largest one withdrew his arm and said to him in a stern, commanding voice, "Halt, stranger to this land. What are your intentions?"

"Er---" Trunks stuttered, a little taken aback. WHY did he have to go and be shy at a moment like this?! "Um, I've come from the planet Earth. Ummmmm---I'm not planning on hurting you or anything, so could I -um- talk to your leader?' 

The large Namek didn't skip a beat. "What business do you have with the Eldest Namek?" he questioned, narrowing his eyes. 

Trunks ground his teeth nervously. "I wish to use the Dragonballs to revive my friends."

The Namek on the right, one that looked as if he might be some kind of village shaman or priest, looked amused at the request. "Interesting..." he mused, gazing at Trunks unblinkingly. "We have had no one journey here in search of the Dragonballs since we relocated almost twenty years ago...how do we know that you are not our enemy?"

"My word is good," Trunks replied, his eyes darting nervously at the aliens around him. "Son Goku was my friend's father, and I wish to revive my friend and some of my family. I promise not to use them for evil."

At Trunks's declaration the Nameks whispered harriedly to each other, whispers that suspiciously sounded like "Son Goku" and "Frieza" and also some words that he did not know. But the reply seemed unanimous when they all raised their heads and the Namek that had not spoken yet gave the ultimatum in a clear voice: "Very well. We will give you an audience with the Eldest Namek. Normally we would not grant such a favor to a stranger, but as you know of the savior that rescued our people from the wrath of Frieza, we believe that the Eldest Namek may be interested in you."

"Come with us," said the large Namek, gesturing over towards the village. "We shall see what he thinks of you."

***

The village was small, with perhaps twenty of the dome-like dwellings, all smattered with various Nameks, mostly adults with a few children. They all stared at Trunks curiously, a few of the older ones pointing at him and nodding. 

The priestly-looking Namek walked up to the largest dome and opened the door, gesturing for Trunks to enter. "Go inside and talk of your request honestly. And don't be surprised at his appearance. He is not the eldest of us, contrary to his name, but he is the wisest."

Giving one last nervous look at the bustling village around, Trunks stepped in, feeling as if his stomach was going to drop downwards out of his body.

It was smoky and earth-like inside, with the scent of incense hanging heavily in the air and the sounds of a large flame crackling. Two guards stood at each side of the door, staring at him menacingly. But the further end of the room---that was the end he couldn't see---

"Come in," a youthful-sounding voice called out from the other end. "What is it that you need?"

He walked in further, his eyes slowly adjusting to the smoke and darkness inside. At the other end of the hearth the smoke seemed to clear for his eyes, and he was able to make out a small, half-grown Namek sitting idly at an ornate throne made out of the same white material as the building. He stared at Trunks with a friendly but calculating gaze. "Ah, Planet Earth, right? I swear that's a Capsule Corp logo on your jacket..."

Trunks looked at him in wonder. "How did you know?!" he exclaimed curiously, forgetting about his nerves for the time being. "I thought that the Nameks didn't get out a lot..."

The small Namek smiled and waved it off. "We don't! But I lived on Earth for awhile a long, long time ago, and I have some very good memories of there." He paused thoughtfully. "But I guess I'm forgetting my manners," he went on seriously. "I am Dende, the Eldest Namek. Well, not exactly the eldest, but you know..."

Trunks furrowed his brow. Dende, Dende, _where _had he heard that name? It sounded familiar somehow...

"So what brings you here to Namek?" Dende went on, staring at his visitor shrewdly. "I'm sure you didn't exactly do this for a joy ride or anything..."

"Errr--yeah," Trunks replied, straightening up. "If it doesn't bother you, I would like to- to use the Dragonballs here."

Dende appeared surprised. "Aren't there Dragonballs on Earth?"

"Um---no. Something very bad happened on Earth about sixteen years ago, and when Piccolo died the Dragonballs went with him. Earth has just lately become peaceful, but the destruction still remains." He decided to keep the story short; until he was asked about details, at any rate. 

Dende's mouth hung open. "Really?" he voiced, leaning closer to Trunks. "That sounds terrible." He went on, his voice becoming more desperate sounding with each word, "But- but how do you know Piccolo? And in such a favorable light, no less? And can you tell me about somebody, if he is still alive? His name is Son Goku, and-"

"Son Goku died of a heart virus long ago," Trunks interrupted. "He was a big loss to us all, and all this might not have happened if he had been around. But most of his friends died when the Earth disaster first started, including his son and my friend, Gohan. I wish to revive them all with the Dragonballs here, if they are powerful enough."

Dende's jaw dropped even further. "Gohan?! Son Gohan?!" he stammered. "He was my friend! He was your friend, too?! And he's dead?! You'll have to tell me all about this! Everything!"

***

The two suns of Namek had both gone down about three hours past, and the distant stars now reigned merrily over the land, all seeming to twinkle in time to the strange, solemn Namekian music that was playing all throughout the camp. It was a happy time, with most of the Nameks gathered around many small fires, drinking (they never ate) fresh water and conversing merrily with each other. Their hard work of the day, farming the many beautiful and exotic plants that made their race famous, was now over. 

Trunks and Dende were huddled around the center fire, talking deeply of the events concerning Earth. Dende was quite interested and listened with rapt attention at Trunks's life story, which concerned him closely as he seemed to know all the people he mentioned. 

"This is sad, too sad to be talking about," he said once, shaking his head and sighing. "Capsule Corp, all damaged like that...I lived there, you know. While we were waiting for the Dragonballs to regenerate so that we could resettle at a planet of our own. Your mother is a nice woman, Trunks. Although loud sometimes..."

Trunks nodded. "Yeah. She is -um- pretty strong-willed."

Dende smiled. "I still can't believe the fact that that uncouth Vegeta is your father, though," he laughed. "A miracle must have worked its way in there! I remember him; I always tried to avoid him. He was a bitter guy. Always wanting to kill somebody..."

"Yeah, I know. I saw that when I went back to the past. But I think he _is _getting better."

"I can't believe your parents are THOSE two, though! Bulma was scared to death of him at first, you know. I remember when I lived with her. And when she wasn't avoiding him they were _always _arguing. About stupid things, too. Although when I do think back I believe he sort of enjoyed that..." Dende trailed off thoughtfully. "And so Gohan trained you up? I played with him all the time. Shame he had to die like that...But I guess that doesn't matter. He'll be with us again soon enough." At this Trunks raised his eyebrows.

"The Dragonballs grew more powerful once Murri passed on and I became their guardian," Dende went on. "The power of the Dragonballs all depends on their keeper. These here still have three wishes and can revive many people at a time, but when they passed on to me they gained the power to give life to those who have not been with us for many years, although the years diminish depending on the number of people. We generally don't exercise this wish on our own, but for you I will make an exception." He cleared this throat. "Those you revive just have to die around the same time and of the same reason. We still can't revive those who died naturally, though, so I'm afraid Goku won't make it, but..."

Trunks nodded. "I know," he said sadly, "but at the very least I got to meet him. He was a great guy...and I'm sure he'll be watching over us."

"And I'm sure he'd want it that way, too," Dende replied firmly. "And so the way I see it you should revive Gohan, the warriors that died in battle, and the ones that died in the Kame House. That'll be three wishes. Does that sound like a plan?"

Trunks nodded. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed happily. 

"Good! We'll start tomorrow morning. I'll do the chant and you tell the wish to Porunga---that's the name of our dragon. From what I forsee it should all go smoothly."

"I guess I'll turn in now, then." Trunks stood up and dusted himself off. "Big day tomorrow, you know."

Dende laughed. "I'm sure! Sleep well, Trunks!"

"I will!" he replied as he walked out of the fringes of the firelight and headed for the hut that had been made up for him. Just as he was about to enter it, though---

"Wait." A gruff voice called out from within the dark shadows, startling Trunks badly. He whirled around and found the speaker to be one of the Nameks that had found him earlier; the one that was indeed the village shaman, in fact. The Namek drew closer to Trunks and told him quietly, touching him lightly on the shoulder, "I heard what you are doing tomorrow, and I wish you great success. Any friends of the great Son Goku are friends of mine. However..." He drifted off thoughtfully, giving him a meaningful glance as he paused briefly. "I have been around for many years, long before we even located to the new planet. I have lived during the time that Frieza purged us, and I have seen and experienced many things. I predict that the consequences of your actions will not go without difficulty." He patted Trunks on the shoulder. "Perhaps I could be wrong, but you must hold fast if there is hardship resulting from what you do. Remember, time flows like a river, and people with it."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"You say sixteen years have passed. Since then people have changed, experience and time have chiseled and sculpted them into what they are today. And the people you are reviving...the river has not swept them along yet."

"Are you saying I should be careful?" Trunks asked curiously, his brow furrowing as he began to feel more and more uncomfortable under the elder's gaze. 

The shaman looked at him coolly. "Yes...that is one of the things. But I see you don't understand. Not yet, but you may when this is all over." He stared at Trunks with such an intensity that he squirmed uncomfortably. "Everything you do brings forth a consequence, and from each consequence a different path will take its course. Something you say, do, feel; one minute thing could change an entire page of history. Just because something happens in one universe does not mean the same will happen in another." He nodded at Trunks and began to walk away. "Just...take care. Again, good fortune be with you tomorrow."

Trunks stood frozen within the doorway, staring at the retreating shaman with his mouth wide open. _(Wha- what WAS that?! What was he trying to say? How weird...)_

He shook his head in frustration as he entered the building and started a fire in the hearth with a Ki ball. He knew that what the shaman had said was important, but he didn't know what he had exactly meant. Something about time and your actions...that much he could decipher. The whole matter made him feel uncomfortable and nervous.

Perhaps...in his way he was telling him to stop with the revival, that it could bring consequences that he wasn't even dreaming of? Nah...his mind was made up. He wanted his mother smiling again, for life to be somewhat normal. Yes, Dende was chanting tomorrow, Porunga was definitely being summoned. Even if it unnerved him to the death.

For better or worse. 

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, guys! I'm STILL inherently amazed that people find this premise and my writing interesting. I hope I'm not annoying y'all because I'm taking this way too slow...I CAN tell you that you'll be seeing Mirai Gohan. And he's not going to be very happy... The newly revived will also be around, wondering what's going on. 

Please review! :) A lot of fic authors out there say that the encouragement allows them to write faster and with more quality, and that's no exception for me. Thanks! 


	5. The Summoning of Porunga

Disclaimer: Yes, you guessed it. It is I, Akira Toriyama! And for some unknown reason I have went insane and have decided to immerse myself in the wonderful world of fanfiction instead of publishing it and making loads of money off of it, even if it sucks. *blinks rapidly* Uhhhh, where did that come from?! Of COURSE I don't own DBZ! 

Author's Note: I'm warning you, this is where it starts to get weird! RAYOR: Read At Your Own Risk! 

***

__

It's choice - not chance - that determines your destiny. -**Jean Nidetch**

The two suns pounded their heavy light upon the scorched earth of Namek's only desert, causing Trunks's Capsule Corp jacket to cling limply to his moist skin. He stared up at them with half-closed eyes, his arms crossed and his hair slightly ruffled from the scalding breeze, praying for the ritual to end and for his part to be over.

He was anxious, more anxious than he had ever been in his life. His heart was pounding rapidly. His palms were sweaty. His knee joints felt like they had ceased to exist hours ago. Nervousness and shock really COULD end up killing a person, he thought as he attempted to suppress the idea that his heart was actually throbbing in his mouth. 

The long, monotonous chant of Dende rang loudly in his ears, a chant that had been going on for what seemed like centuries. The shaman stood nearby, the Dragonballs resonating at his feet, looking upward in expectation of Porunga.

Trunks's feet ground forcefully into the gritty desert sand. _(It's been awhile---seems like it's been days since he started. Seems like a century since I woke up this morning and we flew out here. Does it REALLY take this long?!)_

He tried to reason with himself in an attempt to calm his nerves. _(Well, like I would know; until now I've never seen a Dragonball in my life. Kami, I wish Mom would have TOLD me something about this before.)_

(Maybe I should have just told Mom. This was stupid---lying and coming all the way out here.)

(Hell, what am I doing here anyway?! Maybe this was a mistake; all of it. Maybe the dead should be left dead. Maybe-)

His thoughts were violently cut off when suddenly a resounding roar filled the desert, causing him to jump and almost lose his footing. In awe he watched as the Dragonballs, now glowing almost red, were lifted high into the air, and as the sky appeared to grow dark and stormy. In what there before had been empty air appeared a gigantic round dragon with unblinking crimson eyes, his tail thrashing angrily around as he stared at the trio in front of him.

Dende ran up closer to the dragon, bowing several times. "It is great to see you, Porunga!" he called out upwards. "We have not summoned you since the great famine that occurred eight years ago!"   


Porunga rumbled in reply, "What is your first wish, Namek?"

Dende stared over at Trunks, indicating for him to voice the first wish. "I-I wish for-for Son Gohan to be revived!" he called out as loudly as he could, his voice wavering slightly. His legs felt like jelly now. He honestly felt like he was about to faint. 

Porunga did a brief motion, causing the sky to brighten up with shards of lightning a few seconds later. After a moment... "Your wish has been granted. The one called Son Gohan is now alive and nearby."

Trunks stared over at Dende, puzzled. "Here? He's HERE?! I thought that you were revived wherever you happened to be killed."

Dende shook his head, still gazing unceasingly at Porunga. "It's been so long that probably even his remains are gone, Trunks. In that case the revived is usually just placed at the site of the wishing."

"Well, where is he, then?"

"Probably nearby. We'll find him after we're done."  


"What is your second wish, boy?" Porunga growled impatiently. "Speak now!"

"Um---I-I wish for those that died at the Kame House sixteen years ago to be revived!" Trunks called out, the nervousness still apparent in his voice. Again, the sky immediately lit up, eventually darkening back down to such an extent that the stars started to peep out.

"Those that call themselves Chi-Chi, Muten Roshi, and Oolong are now alive and nearby. Voice your third and final wish, earthling."

Trunks was on the spot. His legs now feeling like liquid and his nerves to the point of no return, he opened his mouth to say the last wish, the wish that he had been waiting for for so long---

"Trunks! TRUNKS!!" A desperate-sounding but very familiar voice was suddenly calling out to over him from nearby, from behind a dune. Trunks stopped short, fumbling with his words as his brain worked to remember, to recognize it. His heart rose considerably. If he was right then the voice belonged to-

Gohan finally climbed over the dune, almost tripping in his haste as he sped towards Trunks, panting like crazy and his arms flailing wildly, as if he wanted to stop the ritual. "Trunks, NO! Trunks, listen to me! _LISTEN TO ME!! _I think I know what you're doing! Please don't do this! _DON'T!! _ Not yet! If you do you'll regre-"

"I wish for those that died in the first battle with the Androids sixteen years ago to be revived," Trunks stated clearly, ignoring Gohan's cries as he watched the sky lighten up a third time. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that his older friend had slumped defeatedly to the ground.

Porunga bared his teeth. "Your third command has been granted," he rumbled as the sky brightened back into day and the Dragonballs, now looking dead and lifeless, dropped back to the earth. "Those that call themselves Yamcha, Piccolo, Krillen, Prince Vegeta, Tien, and Chaioztu are now alive and nearby. You have had three wishes. I shall now take my leave." Trunks watched astonished as the dragon's solid form began to waver back into nothingness. 

All was silent as the day went back to normal as if nothing had happened. It took a few seconds before Gohan lifted his head back up and stared at Trunks, still looking as if he had failed miserably in something. "Well, it looks like you accomplished _something _while I was dead," he finally rasped, his voice hoarse from the yelling. Trunks stared at him in disbelief, practically unable to comprehend that his old friend was standing right in front of him, alive and well. He looked the same as ever, immortalized perfectly from the time in which he had died, right down to the ruffled hair and tattered clothing, though his arm now had a terrible brown scar running widthwise across it. He was actually not much older than Trunks now, with his youthfulness preserved since the time of his death.

"Gohan, old friend! Good to see you!" Dende was ecstatic, grinning broadly as he saw his old playmate for the first time in decades. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Gohan looked up at the young Namek in wonder. "Dende?" he questioned, his mouth slightly open. "Dende, is that _you_?!" He paused and glanced around at the scorched landscape. "We're not on Earth, are we?"

Dende grinned. "We're on Namek, of course! Your friend there certainly has ambition; he flew out here all by himself!"

"I'll say," Gohan replied dryly, that tormented look creeping back onto his face. He gave Trunks a piercing stare. "Do you realize what you just _did, _Trunks?"

The other boy sighed. He had forgotten all about Gohan's festering cynicism. The Gohan from this world had always been like that; he supposed it came from all the terrible things that had happened over the years. "_Yes, _Gohan," he replied firmly, "I _know _what I just did. I flew out here on a spaceship and revived everyone."

Gohan kicked at the sand. "_No! _You _know _what I'm talking about, Trunks! This half-assed little scheme of yours was _dangerous! _Not only dangerous to you, but dangerous to everyone on Earth as well! For all you know the Androids could be playing keep away with the remains of West City!" Another thing about Gohan...he wasn't what you'd call a risk taker.

Trunks smiled. He had completely forgotten about how fun it was to make Gohan upset. "No, Gohan, the Androids are _dead. Dead. _I didn't revive all of you just to get you killed again!" His mentor gave him a puzzled look. "Listen, it's a long story, but they _are _dead. I eventually got strong enough to kill them myself." He shook his head in exasperation. "Honestly, I'd think that you'd be _happy _to be alive. What happened to you, anyway? You were such a cute little kid-"

"And how would YOU know?!" was the sharp reprimand. "And I'm not sure whether I'm happy or not. I can't even remember what I was doing in Otherworld...But the fact remains!" His voice grew louder again. "You could have been _injured! _You could have _died! _And then where would we all be in terms of keeping the Earth safe?!"

"Well, not _we _then, _I. _'Cause then you wouldn't be here to argue with me!"

Gohan was obviously not impressed. "_Very _funny, Trunks, _very_ funny. As much as I'm glad to be seeing you here and not in the Otherworld, I have to wonder just what is going to happen now, with everyone back. Just what were you _thinking, _anyway?"

"Nothing! I just wanted everyone alive again!"

Gohan sighed in exasperation. "I wonder if you'll be saying that line a few weeks from now!"

"Just what's wrong with you, _anyway_?! It's not like I opened Pandora's Box or   
anythi-"

"Um, you two?" Dende cut in, looking a little frazzled from the duo's intense exchange. "I think we'd better go look for the others now. It's not exactly safe for them to be wandering around in the desert."

Gohan stood up. "You got that right. I'll be surprised if they haven't killed each other off by the time we get there. C'mon." He gestured at Trunks, and they both set forth into the wasteland, leaving Dende and the shaman to wait for them back at the site of the wishing. 

Trunks made as if to take off into the air, but Gohan stayed his arms. "No, we don't need to fly. We should be able to find them on the ground."

Trunks looked at his friend quizzically. "So we'll just feel out their Ki or something?"

"No, I'm sure that everyone's Ki is weak." Gohan craned his neck to look over a dune. "I'm not feeling like a billion dollars at the moment myself, so I'm sure everyone else isn't either."

"So...how? We could be here all night, the way it's looking."

"Nah...we should be able to hear them before we see them. I don't want the possibility of them seeing us before we see them anyway."

Trunks gave him a hard glance. "Hey, Gohan?" he questioned after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Did something...happen before they all died? The way you're talking, it sounds like something did."

Gohan sighed. "Yeah..." He kicked at the piping hot sand underneath him. "Yeah and no, I guess. You don't know half the story, Trunks, you were too young back then."  
He paused to think for a moment. " There was a lot of pain involved with this whole ordeal. Most of us dead...and all of us injured. I'm not sure what Bulma's told you, but to tell the truth, most of us in that last fight...we just couldn't do it. We just didn't have the strength to pull together and fight for a common cause. We were so disorganized without my father, and we hardly had a thing in common. We argued and argued and argued about strategy and how to fight...and it cost us on the battlefield. We were all too different. Without Goku, we were sunk." He shook his head sadly. "And as much as I'm happy to be walking around and to see Piccolo and everybody again, I-"

Trunks felt taken aback. "You mean...you couldn't even fight together?" he interrupted. 

"Our lack of teamwork was really what got us in the end, Trunks. As I said, Goku was the one thing that we all had in common, for one reason or another, and when he died...well..." He cleared his throat. "Finally it was your mother that got everyone together and told everyone to either fight together or stuff it. She was friends with almost everyone, and she couldn't figure why they all couldn't just get along."

"So you're saying that everyone can't stand each other, Gohan?" Trunks asked carefully. 

Gohan shielded his eyes to look on the horizon. "No...I didn't say _that._ It's currently a totally different situation. Everyone is confused right now. They-" He gazed over at Trunks piercingly, deciding to say aloud what had been on his mind ever since he had figured out what was going on." It's just that...I don't know...I think you're expecting too much out of this. You're expecting to have this great reunion and for everybody to be happy, but it's not going to be that way. No one died feeling happy. Everyone died feeling bitter and sad, and they've had no time to recover from it. It's like time stopped for a long while and then started back up again. It's confusing."

Trunks thought back to the party, where everyone had been laughing, talking, and enjoying each other's company. Was this really the case? It was really hard to believe that teamwork had been the problem here; even his father had managed to cooperate with the rest in the battles he had seen. Could Goku's death REALLY have changed that much? And was death as big a matter as Gohan was saying, even if you were revived? He didn't remember much about his own death; just that he had been killed swiftly and revived equally as fast. 

"So yeah...in a way, something DID happen," Gohan went on. "Or rather, didn't. So don't be surprised if no one's hugging or kissing each other when we find them. They're going to feel the same way about certain people as they did at the time of their death, and a decade in the Otherworld that they don't even remember isn't gonna change it." 

Trunks nodded and walked on in silence. Maybe things had changed in the other timeline more than he had actually thought...He would have to tread lightly around these people; it was actually almost like meeting a bunch of total strangers. Was this just the beginning of what the Namek shaman had warned? 

Oh well. It was worth it. Totally worth it. To see his mother and father together for once was worth any trouble for a few months. 

***

The twin suns beat mercilessly down upon the northern edge of the desert, causing the motley group of the newly-revived to squirm restlessly around. Staring curiously at the barren wasteland around them, they all sat and waited for some kind of sign, each and every one of them wondering just what the hell was going on.

It would have been a strange sight to the casual observer. Chi-Chi, Vegeta, Roshi, Piccolo, Yamcha, Krillen, Oolong, Chaiotzu, Tien...they were all there. All looking weak, dazed, and confused, all huddled together on the scorched desert sand and panting from the heat. Piccolo and Vegeta, though separate from the main group, both stood impassively nearby under the shade of a monolithic dune; even they looked a little winded from the revival. Winded but alive. The stiffness, the weariness...their pain showed them that they were very much back in the land of the living. 

Chi-Chi was the one who decided to break the silence that had been reigning for the past ten minutes. "W-what's going on?" she voiced a little shakily, tears forming in her eyes. "What happened? Where are we and what are we doing here?!"

Krillen shook his head. "Your guess is as good as mine, Chi-Chi. Last thing I remember...one of those bastards had me in a damn good headlock."

"Tch...I remember that!" Vegeta broke in scornfully. "He snapped your neck like a twig, weakling!"

"You mean to say...we all died?" Chi-Chi, deciding to pointedly ignore him, looked around at everyone in awe. "Yes, that's exactly it!! Last thing I remember----" She trailed off, caring not to finish saying what she last remembered. "But- but who revived us? And how long have we been out of it?"

Everyone immediately looked around, trying to deduce who hadn't been revived along with the rest. "Well, I see that Bulma isn't here," Oolong finally broke in after a moment. "She probably did it."

Yamcha appeared to look upset. "Well, where _is _she, then?!" he exclaimed, desperately looking all around him. "I thought she was staying with _you _guys!"

"Oh, don't blow a fuse, Yamcha!" Roshi was the one to calm him down. "She left after awhile to check out the battle. And it was a darn good thing she decided to leave when she did, otherwise-" This was the second time that someone did not care to finish their sentence. 

Chi-Chi's eyes grew wide. "And where's my little Gohan?! Wasn't he fighting? Oh nooooooo...." With a moan of despair her head sank into her lap and she began to all out bawl. 

Piccolo wasn't too happy himself. "Gohan...he was right there when I died," he muttered quietly to himself. "There's something about this that I don't like..."

A flurry of noise and activity rippled through the group, everyone saddened and confused. Just how long had they been out of it?! What had happened since then?! And what had become of Bulma, her newborn child, and Gohan?! A lot of questions were in desperate need of answering...

Finally Vegeta, who had stood in disgusted silence for about five whole minutes, was the first to hold everyone's attention. "You fools can stay here and die of heat exhaustion," he spat, kicking at the sandy ground. "_I'm _ getting out of here!"

He stood up straighter, outstretching his arms as he powered up and his normally jet black hair turned to a bright gold, scowling as his ears picked up the cries of "Good riddance!" and "You'd probably kill us anyway!" coming from the rest of the group. Just as he was about to take off and leave them forever...

"Hey, look! People!" It was then that Yamcha had spotted something, causing Vegeta to power back down and to stare at the faint but very much people-shaped figures trekking in the heat towards them. 

Chi-Chi shielded her eyes to stare at them. "Oh, my," she muttered, turning to Piccolo, who she knew had twice the eyesight of anyone. "Are they aliens, Mr. Piccolo?"

Piccolo stared on for a moment before answering gruffly, "No, they're humanoid. And they seem to be looking for something."

"Maybe...us?" Chaioztu cut in hopefully, floating up in the air to get a better look.

Piccolo shook his head. "Perhaps...but they don't look familiar. To me, at any rate..."

Chi-Chi leaned back down. "Oh, I hope they know something," she fretted miserably. "Just how long has it really been since we all died?!"

Everyone sat uneasily in the parched desert afternoon, wondering about a little of everything as they impatiently waited for Trunks and Gohan to get closer.

Author's Note: A chapter or two yet, and then Part II begins! Part II meaning that the B/V begins and then the genre of this story will do a complete turnaround. To romance, that is. I wish I could have implemented romance from the beginning, but I couldn't because of what I was actually writing about. (Oh, and to wild child: yeah, I kinda realized that. Bulma is forty-three years old in my story, but she probably _could _use the Dragonballs to get a little makeover, since all her friends are the same age as when they died anyway. So yeah, I'll write that at some point. And as for her finding out about them, I've written far ahead enough to know that she'll be getting a little surprise with the Dragon Radar...Thanks!)

Anyway, another chapter down. I'm not sure when the next update will be, only that I know I will. Thanks for the wonderful reviews, of course, and especially to my regular reviewers. You guys let me know that my story hasn't gotten increasingly bad!

~Y-G~


	6. A Happy Reunion?

Disclaimer: The most of DBZ that I happen to own is just a bunch of bilingual DVD's.

Author's Note: Hey hey hey! It actually didn't take me a year and a half this time! Enjoy!

Oh, and I also apologize in advance for 'Fred'. I know it's cheesy, but I couldn't find any other way. 

***

"Mmmmm...this is so great, just lying here like this..."

"Hmph! What the hell's so great about it?!"

"Oh, I don't know...there's a nice breeze coming in from the window, and it feels so good to just lie here and have nothing on my mind." She stretched her arms outward in a catlike manner and snuggled up against him, her fragrant hair fanned out against his bare chest. "And besides, I have YOU to share it with me!"

All she got in reply was a loud snort. But that, she supposed, was normal. She took a moment to turn and look him in the face, at his piercing obsidian eyes, haunted eyes that still hinted of the neglect and horror that he had experienced during his lifetime. "You're so uptight all the time, you know that?" she said as she felt him immediately stiffen in response to her sudden movement. "What is there that you could possibly worry about? Why don't you live for the moment for once?"

Her curiosity was quickly rewarded with a stiff reply, a reply that she had come to dread over their brief affair. "I have to go train."

"Again?! For what? You've trained for seven days straight, for sixteen hours a day! Why do you push yourself so hard?"

"I'm going now," was all he said, kissing her mouth brusquely as he disentangled himself from her and made ready to leave.

She watched as he retreated from the room without a look behind, the door clicking shut behind him. Tears welling up in her eyes, she shook her head as she stared at the mussed up coverlets, muttering sadly, "This was a mistake. ...A total mistake."

***

"Your invoice, Miss Briefs!" The technician's voice rang out from behind her, startling her out of deep thought and bringing her instantly (but perhaps not regretfully) back to the present.

"Wha?..." Bulma shook her head as if to banish all near-forgotten thoughts out of mind. She stared at the middle-aged man, asking almost incredulously, "You mean...you mean your team is finished with both the lab and the hangar already?" She grabbed the bill from his extended hand, glancing it over.

He nodded. "Yup! There wasn't much of it to clear and repair, really. The whole area had been kept in top condition---some of it upgraded, in fact."

Bulma stood to shake the man's hand. "I can't thank you and your team enough," she stated warmly with a genuine smile. "The faster everything's done, the faster we can manufacture again."

No sooner had the man left and she had resumed getting the papers in her office back in order than a familiar squeaky little voice could be heard in the outside corridor, screeching out her name shrilly. "Bulma! Bu-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-lma-a-a-a-a-a-a!!"

"What is it?" Bulma asked quite crossly as Puar zoomed in, looking quite winded from all the yelling.

"Bulma, there's something alive under the rubble! AND it's beeping!"

"Oh, geez..." She got back up and followed her excitable little companion out into the corridor, cursing angrily under her breath as she stomped down the stairs. "Always interrupted...never get a thing done around here...and here I thought it was _important._"

The thing was actually in one of the offices, buried under some debris somewhere near the desk and also emitting a shrill, annoying beep every five seconds.

"See, Puar?" Bulma grunted as she bent over to paw through the heavy rubble. "It's just some kind of machine. It's not alive or anything. It's probably movement sensitive and it picked you up when you came nearby."

"Well, whatever it is, it sure is annoying!" Puar declared, her wings beating rapidly in the air as she maintained her position overhead. "Shut it up!"

After a few minutes Bulma finally unearthed the offending object, which was very moldy (going by the smell) and coated with a thick layer of white dust, still beeping loudly enough to wake the dead. She stared at it in disgust for a moment, cursing its stupid sense of timing. Something held her back, however, keeping her from silencing it, from chucking the horrible thing against the wall to punish it for disturbing her work. There was something else about it, she noticed, something that seemed oddly normal, as if she had seen it frequently a long time ago. In fact, it almost looked like a-

"Hey...Puar? Take a close look at this thing. Does it seem...familiar to you?" Bulma looked up at the pink feline, a strange look slowly creeping over her face. "It almost looks like the-"

"The Dragon Radar!" Puar exclaimed happily, swooping in and brushing the dust off with her slender pink paws, indeed revealing it to be that. "But why is it beeping? Nobody turned it on..."

Bulma shook her head. "You don't turn it on, Puar, that's the funny thing. The only time that it beeps like this is when a wish is being made. And what's weird is that no one's made a wish here for about nineteen years...the Dragonballs don't even exist anymore. They disappeared when Piccolo died!"

"Maybe it needs to be fixed," Puar cut in, looking at the device curiously. 

"Yeah..." She stared at it, turning it over in her hands. "I think I'll do that. Although there's not much of a point anymore; I mean, there IS nothing to track with it..." She stood up and headed for the door. "I don't know, I just don't know. I'll look at it when I have the time..." 

She paused in the hall when all of a sudden the beeping stopped and they were left only with a tense silence. "It stopped...how odd..." The thing now lay innocently in her hand, looking as if it had never done anything.

Deciding to leave the matter alone for the moment, she went back to her office and placed the radar on top of her desk, taking a moment to stare at it again before she resumed her work. The fact that it was the Dragon Radar seemed to unnerve her, although she had no earthly reason why. 

She tried to shake the strange tingling feeling out of her stomach. _(It beeped. That stupid thing beeped. Why?)_

(Is it broken? But it shouldn't be, even after all these years; I built it to last.)

(Well, no use worrying about it now. The Dragonballs are gone, we all know it, and the Radar's probably just gone haywire for some reason or other.)

She sighed and picked up the freshly written contract between Capsule Corp and the newly reinstated staff. (_Trunks, just hurry home, will ya? Your mother's starting to get just a little too paranoid about everything.)_

***

Trunks, of course, was in reality at least a light year away on Namek, currently doing something that his poor mother had never even dreamed of. Wiping beads of sweat from his forehead, he grinned as his Saiyan eyesight once again discerned the tightly-knit circle of people who were all sitting in the shade of a mountainous dune about a hundred yards away. 

This was it. They had, at long last, found them.

It had been a tedious, miserable walk that had spanned for four long hours, but even that hadn't bothered him. He happily thought that even a hundred hour walk would have been much worth this reward. Although, he reflected rather ruefully, it _would _have been better if his friend would have actually _talked _to him for at least awhile, and not just quietly marched at his side, looking grim and silent. Gohan seemed to be off in his own world at the moment, not having opened his mouth since their last conversation, not talking unless it was something connected with the search itself. Trunks thought it all-in-all strange. He might have started out as the shy eleven year old boy that he had seen back in the other timeline, but the Gohan Trunks knew never acted like _this_. Not as far as he remembered, at any rate...

Trunks gave a puzzled glance over at his longtime friend, whose eyes and jaw were set in such a way that he looked like he was going to a funeral and not a sixteen year reunion. _(What's up with him anyway? You think he'd be at least a LITTLE happy about this whole thing, but instead he's looking like he has a stick rammed up his derriere. ...Chi-Chi's not THAT bad, is she?)_

He shook his head as he dismissed the thought. _(Might as well not worry about it. He'll tell me when he's ready; he was never one to let something keep on bothering him. We've got other stuff to do right now..)_

They were getting closer; enough to be in speaking distance. Trunks's heart rose as he managed to catch a glimpse of Vegeta, who was in fact looking much like himself, with his arms crossed over his chest and the usual scowl pasted on his face. At least _something _was sacred in both times... _(Maybe these guys won't be such strangers to me after all...)_

They were now standing just feet away from the newly revived. A hush fell over the group of people, the air becoming even heavier and tenser than it had during the silence that had reigned beforehand. Both groups looked each other over curiously, each as astonished as the other. Even Gohan, who had full well known what to expect, was temporarily tongue-tied. All that could be heard was the sound of the whipping wind upsetting the sand dunes, causing dust to whirl into the air and for them to rapidly blink it out of their eyes...

Finally it was Piccolo who spoke. "Are you the ones who revived us?" he barked, his eyes narrowing as he attempted to assess the newcomers. 

"I did," Trunks replied, stepping forward, suddenly feeling uncomfortably aware that everyone was staring at him. "I revived you all."

There was a long silence as everyone continued to stare at him, as if expecting him to explain every last detail. That didn't happen, however, as Trunks only turned a deep crimson and stood motionless, his chronic shyness suddenly taking over and refusing to let him use his vocal chords. "Uh...well...I-"

"Hey!" Chi-Chi's voice suddenly rang out clearly as she squinted not at Trunks but at the person standing next to him. "Hey! You look like- you look exactly like my-"

Everyone was starting to agree. 

"Yeah, he DOES look like-"

"But he's all grown up-"

"Look at him!"

"-Gohan!"

Gohan, unlike Trunks, did not blush at the sudden rush of attention. "Well, that's because I _am _Gohan," he explained, a small smile forming on his face. 

A dull roar suddenly ensued as half the crowd surrounded Gohan, the tension and jumpiness that had taken ahold of everyone beforehand now suddenly forgotten. They all looked genuinely happy as they took in the sight of the (somewhat) happy-looking, well-adjusted young man, some of them hugging him tightly and others talking excitedly at him. Even Piccolo had to smile as he finally recognized the adult version of the child he had always had a special bond with.

"Gohan! It's really you!"

"Wow! You've really grown, kid! It must have been those Senzu Beans!"

"Guess THIS answers our question of how long it's been since we died!"

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, Gohan!! Give your mother a great big KISS!"

"So YOU'RE the one who revived us, Gohan!"

Gohan just smiled and shook his head while trying to avoid the flailing arms of his overemotional mother. "No, it wasn't me," he replied, albeit a little chokingly, as Chi-Chi was hugging him so tightly that only the Jaws of Life could have pried her off. "I was just revived a little while ago myself. Save your thanks for Fred over there!" He gestured over towards Trunks.

Trunks opened his mouth in protest. "Hey, my name's not-" However, he couldn't tell what exactly his name was, as he grunted in pain when Gohan's foot flew out of nowhere and got him square in the shin. Gasping angrily, he shot him a dirty look in order to find out why, but Gohan just shook his head reprovingly, putting his finger over his lips. 

"Hey, isn't that a Capsule Corp jacket you're wearing?" Yamcha asked him curiously over the roar of everyone's voices. "Do you work there or something?"

Trunks again opened his mouth to tell the truth, but before he knew it Gohan had cut in. "Employee, sparring companion, but above all friend," he said airily, in a voice quite unlike his own. "We've known each other for years. That's why he knew how to revive us."

"Hey, I don't- I'm not-"

"Sparring companion?" Chi-Chi echoed. "But wouldn't you knock the poor boy's head off?"

"Surely even a half-breed like you would be able to kill this weakling in one blow," Vegeta sneered, breaking his usual silence.

Gohan cursed himself momentarily for running off at the mouth, but he was smart enough to find a quick answer. "Er---he's got his own -uh- special type of fighting," he managed to come up with. "He's a good opponent."

"Gohan, I don't think-"

"-He came here all the way to Namek just to gather the Dragonballs and revive us. You NEED to be strong to do that, right, guys?"

"I'm NOT Fr-"

"Well, I think we'd better get going," Gohan interrupted in a loud voice. "Fred and I have already had a long day, and the afternoon's slipping away. There's a village of Nameks nearby, I guess, so we'll spend the night. C'mon, everybody!"

Trunks scowled as he began to follow Gohan and the others north, towards the edge of the desert. Just what the HELL was going on?! Why didn't he want the others to know his name like that?!

He needed to pull Gohan into a corner somewhere and force him to explain. Desperately.

***

It was indeed a long time before Trunks could get Gohan alone that night, as everyone and their grandmother, even Dende, had to crowd around him and ask him every question under the sun. He sat on a rock and scowled at them all evening, waiting for them to shut up and let him approach; not unlike Vegeta, in fact, who was doing practically the same thing except on the other end of the village (except, well, he was probably doing that because he WANTED to). Trunks almost had the urge to go over there and explain everything to him, as he was the main reason he was here on Namek in the first place, but some invisible force held him back. A tiny little voice residing in his brain seemed to tell him that Gohan would not approve.

The sky had gone long dark and the fires were just starting to grow when Trunks finally got to talk to his old friend, who was trying to look unobtrusive next to a small blaze towards the edge of the camp. Budging up a little bit as to give Trunks a little more space by the fire, he then cleared his throat and stared at his friend with raised eyebrows, almost as if he had been expecting this for awhile.

Trunks spoke first. "Gohan, why did you-" he began in an unnaturally high voice. "Why did you - why did you DO that?!"

"Why I didn't tell them who you really were and that you're actually part Saiyan like me and everything?" Gohan replied quickly, poking a stick into the fire. "I did that because- because...because for the moment it's -well- actually for your own good."

Trunks was not satisfied with his answer. "But WHY?! I really don't see any point in lying like that!"

"I do," Gohan cut in shortly, giving his friend a serious look. "Listen, I think we should let Bulma handle the rest of this. Neither of us are really fit to explain. I only know parts of the story, and you -well- you shouldn't be broadcasting that you're Vegeta's son just yet." 

Trunks noted that his speech seemed oddly rehearsed. Knitting his eyebrows in confusion, he questioned, "But what's wrong with that?"

"Trunks, just trust me on this. You're living proof that they've been dead for sixteen years. They're not ready to handle any surprises - they need someone familiar like Bulma to explain it all. And about Vegeta - he's-" He stopped in frustration for a moment, looking as if he had almost let something slip. "Listen, just trust me," he went on, almost angrily. "Don't answer any questions until we get back on Earth, and keep pretending you're Fred. You might be glad you did in the end."

"But-"

"But _nothing!! _I'm grateful for what you did for me and the others, but there are a lot of things involved with it!" Gohan snapped, moodily throwing the twig into the fire. "Now why don't we just shut up?! I don't want to ruin my first night alive in six years!"

***

As Trunks later headed out into the darkness towards his hut, he kept running Gohan's words over and over in his mind. He shouldn't tell anyone, he should just let his mother take care of everything...his orders had been rather cryptic. What was the point in keeping anything secret? It was bound to come out anyway!

Gohan was hiding something, he was sure of that much. After all, those _had _been some rather flimsy excuses he had made back at the fire. It was a shame he was in no position to find out the real truth; not until he was back home, at any rate...

__

(He let that one sentence slip...I know it. That about me being Vegeta's son...did something bad happen...something I don't know about?)

Too tired to think about anything anymore, he sunk down on the straw pallet inside his hut and fell into a deep sleep.

***

The Namek village had by all appearances died down for the night. With the fires all going out one-by-one and everyone slowly shuffling off to bed, the camp eventually became dark and silent, almost ghostly under the bright but distant light from the planet's four moons. Wisps of mist from the atmosphere's vapors were already beginning to curl and writhe within the village's deep valley, promising for a foggy morning.

There was one person, however, who didn't wish to drop off just yet. Moodily kicking a clump of grass, Vegeta shifted slightly as he leaned back against a house, feeling restless and virtually wide awake. He couldn't sleep, not when he had this much on his mind, anyway...and especially when he had had a long dirt nap already to begin with. He suspected it had been at least ten years since his death; his Ki was currently so weak that it pained him to even walk very far. 

His hand slowly strayed down to his chest, where Android 18's Ki ball had seared through his body, immediately killing him. Even the coveted Super Saiyan level had not helped him there; she had destroyed him as effortlessly as if he had just been another human futilely trying to get in her way. _(What pain...what humiliation...Killed like that in front of the Namek. I'm sure by now he's told those other weak fools all about it, too.)_

His finger went further down, lightly brushing the large brown scar that now graced the area over his heart. Yes, the injury was now healed, and he was now as alive and whole as he had ever been. But something else had been destroyed when he had fallen, something that he could never get back. That _something_ was his pride, of course. 

__

(Honestly, though, what shred of dignity did I even have left? First it was Frieza, then that fool Kakarot, then - then it was HER.) A shudder of fury overtook him as memories flooded back into his brain, memories that were still fairly fresh in his newly revived mind - memories that he rather would have forgotten along with his death.

He sent another clump of grass spinning into the night air. _(Hell, why did those morons revive me in the first place? What's the point anymore? I don't even have a rival to compete with!)_

He hoped that this sudden burst of emotion just had to do with his recent revival and not because of weakness on his part. _(And to top it off, why is all this crap even bothering me?! I've grown weak - too weak. I was even becoming weak before my death. I am a Saiyan warrior! Not some weak Earth fool who needs comfort in others!)_

(WHY didn't I just purge the planet when I had the chance?! I had the golden opportunity to do it---but instead I got entangled in that OTHER mess. And now I'm trapped. Who knows how strong Kakarot's brat has become, and as for that other weird kid, I KNOW he's masking his Ki. Even when masked a power level like that is unheard of. Just who is he anyway?!)

Finally coming to the conclusion that the Namekian night air was seemingly addling his brains to the point of *shudder* softness, Vegeta slowly got up and stumbled off towards the outskirts of the village, to the hut he was forced to share with Yamcha. He already hated the prospect of a roommate, but it was going to take all of his willpower just to not smother him with a pillow as he slept. And especially if he snored. 

He sunk down on the pallet made up for him on the far side of the room, staring up at the high white ceiling that glimmered eerily in the moonlight, knowing that despite his weariness he would be unable to sleep tonight. 

Author's Note: It might be awhile until I update again. I've got a lot going on right now. But don't worry! This story is kinda my baby; I want to see it through to the end and I won't abandon it. I'm just in sort of a dry spell compared to my other fics (and I haven't even posted one of them yet!). Oh yeah, and don't worry about the age difference b/w Vegeta and Bulma. I'm taking care of that right now in the chapter that I'm writing! I found a really interesting way to do it...

As always, thank you for the kind reviews. It lets me know that you're reading (that's the most important part) and kind of where to take my next chapter. Thanx!


	7. Two Close Calls

Disclaimer: 

  
Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I don't own DBZ and I know it,

So there's really no need to sue!

*Blushes and hides under desk* I have to admit, that sucked. Ah well, poetry was never my forte. 

A/N: Heeeeeeeeeeeeere's chapter seven, in all of its terrible glory. I kind of went off on a tangent in this one, but maybe you'll enjoy it all the same. I figured we needed a little break from all that heavy plot!

~*~

The room was shadowy and half-lit, but Bulma could sense everything around her with a surprising clarity. The aroma of the sweetly-scented candles that flickered steadily upon the dresser...the scratchy feeling of the rough carpet upon her feet...the pungent odor of her own sweat as she shivered in anticipation. 

Anticipation for what, however, even she had yet to find out. Waiting was all she could do at the moment. Waiting...it was just that sense of waiting and incompleteness - that was what was keeping her standing here like this...waiting.

The time seemed to trickle on, trickling more slowly than the bead of sweat that was making its way down her face. She stared at her reflection in the ornate mirror directly opposite her, a disheveled figure with mussed-up hair and a pale, peaked face. ...What was she doing here? Why was she just standing there? _What _in the world could she be waiting for, what could be so compelling that she just stayed here and allowed time to stand still? 

__

(Or perhaps I should be thinking who,_) _she thought with a slight shudder as she slowly became aware of a pair of muscled arms twining almost snake-like around her shoulders. She gave a more pronounced shudder as she felt his rough, calloused hands caress her smooth, creamy neck, his warm breath tickle her moist cheek...

She inclined her head slightly to face him. "What on earth took you so long?" she almost whispered, staring directly into his impenetrable black depths. 

"What does it matter?" was the soft reply, albeit a little muffled as his mouth made a slow trail down from her face to the hollow at the base of her neck, causing her to whimper. 

"But it took so long - I've been waiting so long-" she whispered faintly as he gently pulled her towards the bed. Again, she shivered in anticipation...she knew exactly what to expect _there._

She had no urge to resist as she was pulled against him; the thought of separation from his warm, well-toned body was almost too much for her to bear at the moment. Instead she just moaned as she was treated to the feel of his lips roughly brushing against hers, of his hands constantly roaming all over her body. It felt so wonderful, yet it was all such pure torture to her...his teeth lightly raked the tender skin around her jaw, causing her to moan in rapture. He had always been infuriating like that - giving her just enough to make her want more-

***

"VEGETA!" she suddenly yelped, sitting straight up in bed, one hand clamped firmly against her chest as if to keep her rapidly beating heart from popping right out. She stared wildly around the room, as if to find some semblance of her dream still hanging around, but nothing was there, everything was as usual. Sunlight was streaming through the high, sheer-curtained windows; nothing from her dream was to be seen; no dark room, no candles, no mirror...and no one beside her.

"It's OK, it's OK," she muttered, still clenching the wet fabric of her pajama top. "It was just a dream, nothing to get excited about..."

She felt quite the contrary, however. Any dream with Vegeta in it, however pleasant, always seemed to rile her up for days, and especially since they had been occurring more frequently as time went on. She loved them yet hated them; he was so close in her dreams that she could practically taste him (both figuratively AND literally), yet in reality so unattainable. Such a sweet torture...

She disentangled herself from the sweat-soaked bedcovers, her legs creating friction against the wilted sheets. "All right, gotta forget about this," she muttered to herself, glaring down at her still-pumping chest. "You did NOT like that dream! Those stupid dreams are just another testament to Vegeta's bad memory. He'd WANT me to remember those, the ass...and he never acted like that in bed anyway!" THAT part was true, at least. Powerful painkillers would have been needed in order to make Vegeta as soppy as he was in _that _dream.

"Dammit all," she continued to mutter to herself as she tripped over a fallen ceiling tile in the still dilapidated hall. She needed coffee, bright lights...something to get her back to the world of reality so that she wouldn't stay in that faraway place of heavily perfumed candles and memories long gone. She needed to be involved in the restoration of Capsule Corp and not off in La-La Land.

***

"Goddammit!" Bulma screamed to no one in particular two hours later in her office, fully dressed and awake, slamming her fist on the half-rotted wooden desk. "I just can't - I just can't-" She trailed off in frustration, glaring at a sparrow chirruping out on the window sill. "I just can't stop thinking about it!" 

The dream was still hovering around on the edge of her mind; she couldn't think about the papers in front of her, nor could she concentrate on anything for very long. She hated that; she hated that how even now Vegeta could have such an effect on her (and in such a pleasant way), even if he had been gone sixteen years. But that was how it had always been...

She looked desperately around the room. She needed something to do, something that required all of her attention and concentration, something to keep her mind off it until it faded out memory. Something like -

She looked up as the door to her office suddenly clicked open, revealing one of the staff that worked down in the hangar. "We have the communications apparatus in the docking area in perfect working order, Miss Briefs," he announced. "Do you want us to clear a bay for the ship that's out right now?" 

Bulma nodded. "Go ahead."

"All right then," he replied, turning to leave. "Just checking again to make sure." He headed back towards the hangar, shutting the door behind him quietly.

It took Bulma a full two minutes of sitting and pen tapping before what he had been talking about had sunk in. But when it did-

"That IT!" she suddenly shrieked happily, sitting bolt upright in her chair. "I'll go on the viewscreen and talk to Trunks! _That'll _help me forget! See how he's doing, see if he's all right...he had _better_ be, after all we just went through. Yes, I think I'll go do it right now if I can_-_" She got up and headed down to the hangar, content with the idea that she'd be talking to her son for the first time in six odd days. 

Little did she know that Trunks was going to be going through an excruciating five minutes very soon...

***

"So our little house in Mt. Paoztu's actually still standing?!" Gohan asked incredulously, a wide grin slowly spreading all over his face. "Really, I thought that if started leaning just five more inches over to the side it'd-"

"Oh, it's still standing," Trunks interrupted quickly, "and it's the same as ever. Same furniture. Same decor." He wrinkled his nose. "Same mess, too."

The ship was now hurtling in space back towards Earth; after some long farewells between them and the Nameks earlier that morning they had lifted off and begun the four day journey home. The two were sitting alone together in the Gravity Room, leaning against the pillar that held the controls, Trunks trying to get Gohan back up to snuff newswise. The others were currently out of sight; either on the bridge or in the living quarters.

Gohan scratched his head. "Well, your mother isn't exactly what you'd call the French maid type, Trunks. I mean, for half her life all she had to do was punch a button and she had the bots running at her beck and call. And at our house we couldn't even afford a lower model bot..." He trailed off, sighing, for some reason looking very interested in the gravity machine's bright red power button. 

After a short silence he looked sidelong at the younger Saiyan. "The two of you are welcome to keep staying with us, you know. I'm sure Mom would love the company. I mean, there's just two of us now..."

Trunks shook his head. "No, it looks like Mom's hellbent on getting Capsule Corp up and running again," he replied with a hint of wistfulness. "Not that I blame her or anything, but..." Now it was _his _turn to trail off. He was thinking, rather sadly, that that would have been a wonderful idea. To be with Gohan again after so long...he had always thought of him as a mixture between mentor and brother, but now that they were so close in age he seemed more like a good friend than anything else. 

His train of thought was suddenly broken, however, when the sound of a loud thump, closely followed by an agonized yell, was heard from what sounded like the bridge. "What the-"

Gohan, not even bothering to look up, snorted back a laugh. "You don't suppose there's a hentai collection hidden somewhere on this ship, do you?" he asked Trunks, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

Trunks shook his head. "No, not unless Dad did something all day other than train up here," he replied rather dubiously. "Why?"

Gohan continued to smile. "That just sounded like Master Roshi getting smacked up there. And, by the sounds of it, by my mother's frying pan too. But how she got ahold of a frying pan up here, I have no idea..." He shook his head in mock sadness at Trunks. "Now that everyone's up and about you'd better get used to a lot of arguments around here...By the way," he added in an unusually high voice, "How can you do that?"

Trunks creased his forehead. "Do what?"

"Call Vegeta 'Dad' like he's been around every day of your life. How can you do that?"

Trunks shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably; he disliked the shrewd look that Gohan was giving him. "Well, I don't know," he began slowly, drawing his knees up to his chest. "It just kinda came naturally...I've told you about my trip back to the past. Back there I've already known him for a year. He _is _my father and he answers to it whenever I use it, so why not?"

"Just asking..." Gohan trailed off, determinedly trying not to catch Trunks's eye.

Trunks rolled his eyes; this secrecy thing of Gohan's was starting to be a real pain in the ass. "Listen, Gohan," he started firmly, "just what is it that you're trying to hi-"

However, his question was once again, sadly not answered when suddenly and out of the blue came a loud snap from the viewscreen located at the top of the pillar, causing them both to jump in their places. Trunks stared up wide-eyed at it, suddenly feeling like he had been doused in a pitcher of ice cold water. His stomach felt as if it was going to plummet heavily to the floor; there was only one person who knew how to contact the ship, and that was- 

"Trunks?" the voice of Bulma inquired from the viewscreen. "Trunks, are you there? Adjust the controls so I can see you!"

"_Shit_!" he hissed, jumping up on his feet. Luckily the visual apparatus was not tuned and the screen was still a jumble of snow and colors, but that didn't mean she couldn't hear everything...

"Gohan!" he whispered loudly, turning to his friend, who was looking equally bewildered. "Get out of here while I talk to her!"

"What?" Gohan mouthed back. "_Why?" _Suddenly it dawned on him though, and his expression as stern as the previous day's. "Geez, Trunks, now don't tell me you didn't-"

"No, she doesn't know!" Trunks waved his arms in frustration. "It's supposed to be a surprise! _Now shut up and get out of here_!"

"OK, OK, I'm going, I'm going," Gohan replied, rolling his eyes and heading for the living quarters nearby. As he went, though, Trunks could have sworn that he heard him muttering, "Geez, Trunks, you are one complex guy..."

When he had finally disappeared Trunks, with an air of desperation, somehow managed to find the screen's control panel and maneuvered the controls so that the visuals back on Earth slowly swam into view. He saw Bulma standing in what looked like the newly-renovated lab, blinking and fidgeting as she waited for him to show up. "Mom?" he asked shortly, wondering what had possessed her to contact him at such a time. 

Her face lit up when she saw him. "Oh, there you are!" she exclaimed happily, clapping her hands together. "I was wondering why - oh, never mind. I was just lonely, and I thought I'd come and check how your training was going." She gave him a scrutinized stare. "You WERE training, right? You don't even look like you're breaking a sweat right now."

Trunks fumbled for an excuse. "Oh -uh- that's cause I'm -ah- cooking," he stammered, trying to look straight into his mother's eyes. Damn it, if he ruined the surprise _now_, of all times, he would absolutely KILL himself... 

"Cooking?" she echoed, still looking dubious.

"Well, uh, _yeah_," he replied, trying to look credible. "I'll starve up here if I don't eat something! And training for more than a couple hours sucks anyway! I need a break!"

"Well, I can definitely believe _that_, at any rate," she snorted. "People who only care about their training don't have much going for them, after _all_..." At this Trunks swore he saw her eyes glint dangerously... "But anyway!" she went on, perking back up as if she had never looked disgusted. "When are you planning on coming back?"

"I'm coming right now," he said smoothly. "I should be back on Earth in about three or four days."

"Oh, great! I could really use your help with everything! The restoration of the building's going fine, but maybe not as fast as I'd like. I could use a good strong Saiyan to help me clear out the rubble!"

Trunks, fighting the urge to go out and say "more like three", managed to let out a forced laugh. "Well, it was nice seeing you, Mom, and I'll make sure to-" -at this his eyes widened as he chanced a look down the living quarters' corridor- " -uh- make sure to- make sure to-"

Bulma looked confused. "Make sure to what, honey?"

Trunks gulped. He couldn't remember what he was going to say, nor did he even care. What he was currently saw coming down the corridor was enough to make his blood run cold. Coming down it was Vegeta, and he was headed straight this way! 

Bulma was looking worried now. "Trunks, what's the matter? What's wrong?" she asked urgently, positioning herself closer to the screen.

Trunks could only reply in disjointed words. "Food. Cook. Burn. Explosion. Be back in a minute," he managed to croak, then going off in a mad dash down the corridor, praying to the fates that his mother was unable to see very far down it.

Vegeta didn't even stand a chance. Trunks ploughed right into him, knocked him right over as if he were made of cardboard, and then grabbed his arms, dragging him to a nearby utility closet and locking him in. He stared at for it a moment, making sure that his father was distracted for at least awhile, and then ran back down to the Gravity Room, making sure to lock the door behind him. Time to see if it and the walls really _had _been designed to withstand heavy pressure and Ki blasts...

Bulma was still patiently waiting on the screen. "Everything okay?" she asked him when he appeared back in her line of vision, panting slightly. 

He looked up. "Oh -uh- yeah. You know, I never _was _very good at cooking," he replied quickly, again, attempting to at least sound credible. 

"Neither am I, Trunks, neither am I..." She paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. 

"I can't help you there. Your father always said I cooked like -to censor it greatly- absolute _crap_."

At this Trunks started greatly; not from his mother's statement, unfortunately, but from the explosion that had occurred out in the hall. 

Bulma wrinkled her eyebrows. "What was that?"

Trunks gave off a rather shrill laugh. "Oh -uh- I think I'd better go," he said nervously. "I really don't think I should be leaving those chili dogs unattended anymore. Be seeing you, Mom!"

He gave off a great sigh of relief as the screen slowly faded and went back to normal. _(What a close call. I should honestly just disable that thing,) _he thought as he stumped off towards the door, absolutely dreading whatever sight was awaiting him on the other side. 

And a dreadful sight it turned out to be, too. The only thing that Trunks could see at first was a steady plume of thick smoke swirling throughout the corridor. Eventually it cleared, though, and he suddenly became aware that someone was standing right in front of him, arms crossed and looking unconditionally pissed.

Vegeta, of course. 

His words came in short, angry, barely understandable bursts. "_Just - what - the - HELL - do - you - think - you're-" _At this point he just shook his fist vaguely at the desecrated utility closet, whose door had been ripped right off its hinges; he was too furious to even finish the sentence.

Trunks could do nothing but give forth a sheepish smile. Vegeta continued to stare at him indignantly, as if attempting to frighten out an answer. When that didn't work after about two minutes, however-

"Just what ARE you?!" he finally just burst out, a hint of incredulousness apparent in his voice.

"Huh?"

"What ARE you?!" he repeated angrily, his boot violently scuffing the dust-layered linoleum floor. 

"Whaddaya _mean, _what am I?" Trunks asked calmly, though he was becoming more anxious by the second.   


"Just what I meant, you little brat!" he spat out. "No one, not even Kakarot, would have been able to do what you have just done!" He tossed his head and took a step closer, drawing up to his full height (although that couldn't have been called much, as he was a full foot shorter than Trunks). "And your power level is atrociously high! High even though you've been masking it for the past day! It's almost as if you have Saiyan blood! What - _what the hell_ -"

"I can't tell you why," Trunks replied honestly. 

Vegeta snorted. "You mean you won't." He turned around and began to walk away, but thought better of it a moment later, calling out over his shoulder, "I'm not thick-headed like the others, boy. I _will _figure this out, and when I do you will certainly regret it. I won't be caught off guard again." 

Trunks sighed as he watched his retreat. That had been _two _close calls in only five minutes, and strange ones at that. It was almost as if he was in some whacked-out, badly written soap opera...and the absolute last thing he needed was for Vegeta to suddenly put two and two together. In fact, going by the way that he had been talking, he was surprised that he hadn't figured out that he was his son before...had he forgotten that he had had a one year old son when he died in the first place?! 

He walked out of the still smoked-filled hall and off towards the living quarters, eager to tell Gohan about everything that had transpired. 

Although he was sure that all Gohan would say was that he had got what he deserved. 

A/N: Hmmmmm....what the hell IS going on here? Was Trunks not told something when he was younger? Or is it something on Vegeta's end? Hell, is it just because of the author's inability to write? The next chapter is the beginning of the turning point...

Anyway, as usual, thanks for all the great reviews. They're really helping me with the writing and the direction of the plot. The plot and I have been in a constant power struggle ever since I started writing this, and anything you might say about it really helps! :) 

Not sure when I'll be updating next, but it'll only be when I'm done and satisfied with the next chapter. This chapter was written back in the good ol' days when I actually HAD some free time, so I guess I'll have to scrape some up somehow and start writing again. Thanx!


	8. Shattered Time

Disclaimer: As always, I don't own DBZ.

Author's Note: OK, if anyone still actually holds an interest in this fic, I'm really sorry for not updating. Lack of interest/being busy/writing myself right into a hole are about the only excuses I can give.

A major plot twist begins in this chapter. This is where the truth finally begins to unfold...

"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves." William Shakespeare

__

Three days later, at the Son house

"Well, that's it for _my _room," Bulma said matter-of-factly as she clumped down the rickety wooden stairs, arms fully laden with various junk she had salvaged. "And that seems to be everything..."

She made her way downstairs into the sunlit living room, depositing the stuff into a large cardboard box she had waiting upon the moth-eaten sofa. The objects inside perhaps weren't all that useful, nor were they things that she desperately needed, (Capsule Corp had about every amenity on the planet anyway), but everything had some sort of sentimental value that she wished to hold onto.

"What would I do with all this furniture _anyway_?" she muttered to herself as she went over the contents of the house mentally. "And technically it's not even mine!"

That was true enough. She remembered having many misgivings about moving here after Capsule Corp had been smashed, although Gohan had eventually talked her into it, saying that they couldn't roam the streets and eke out a living forever. He had been bright for a little kid, she mused, and he had been able to realize a lot of things that she hadn't... Until it was too late, anyway.

The whisper was dry upon her lips. "I can't believe I'm finally leaving here," she murmured hoarsely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I really can't..." But she was. Capsule Corp was her and Trunks's home once again; she no longer had to sit and brood here in old memories. Although Capsule Corp had nearly as many, if it all came down to it...

She would never let this place become a derelict ruin, though. Not ever. Not after everything that had happened here. All the happiness and sadness, the laughter and tears, the life and death...she would somehow keep this house in repair as a testament to the Son family's memory. It was the very least that she could do, considering that she was one of the few left.

Bulma stared at the box. It was scarcely half full, but she still missed nothing. It honestly went to show how much she'd _really _miss this place (meant sarcastically, of course), going by how many things she was taking with her to remind her of it. _(I'll have to ask Trunks later on if I forgot something...)_

She was just turning to leave (she had the yard to pick up, with all of her unfinished inventions and experiments, after all) when something sitting on the coffee table under the dusty bay window caught her eye. It was standing prominently amongst the other pictures and the lace doilies that Chi-Chi had knit long ago, its silver edges gleaming innocently in the morning sunlight...

"Son-kun," she stated softly, crossing the room to pick up his framed photo. The frame itself was caked with dust and the photo itself was getting faded and discolored, but nevertheless it was a picture of her best and oldest friend. He waved happily at her, seemingly oblivious of her current situation.

"Son-kun," she muttered again, holding the frame to her chest. She hated looking at it dead-on, at any rate; she had just had a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the shiny frame. A glimpse of her aging body, her increasing wrinkles and the gray hair that was starting to appear around her temples.

"I suppose I should take this picture with me," she announced to herself brusquely, looking at her box. "It's of Goku, after a-"

Her self-musings were, however, rudely interrupted at this point by a sharp rapping upon the front door.

__

(Now who could that be?) she wondered to herself as she, still holding the picture, headed for the front door. _(There's no neighbors around here to speak of, and Trunks is still---ARRGH, Puar! I TOLD you to stay home!)_

However, it was not Puar on the other side of the door. Nor was it Trunks. Nor was it anyone she was even remotely expecting.

She screamed bloody murder when she saw who was standing on her front porch. The fragile picture frame fell out of her nerveless hands, shattering on impact.

__

"Auto pilot now proceeding to Planet Earth. Estimated landing time: t minus seventy minutes."

Trunks looked up at the intercom as his finger jabbed away at the button controlling the window hatch to the bridge. The stupid thing appeared to be malfunctioning, and at this rate he would have to head downstairs to check out Earth as they approached. He wasn't planning on coming back up here to look at it anytime soon, at any rate; probably not ever, if he could help it. It was a lonely region, space...and if he hated one thing it was being lonely.

"Need help?" Trunks whirled around as he heard the metallic clink of someone coming up the ladder.

"Need is an understatement," Trunks replied dryly as he watched Gohan approach. "I've been pushing this damn button for so long that it's sunk about six inches since I started."

Gohan stared at the hatch for a moment, and then, sitting down in the co-pilot's chair, proceeded to type something in the keypad on the control panel. Trunks watched amazed as the hatch slowly moved apart, revealing the brown wasteland that was the surface of Earth, after only a few seconds of typing.

"Your mother taught me that," he said matter-of-factly as he leaned back in his chair to watch. "She invented the manual override in this ship, you know." He turned to look at Trunks, who was still leaning against the control panel. "She's a smart woman, Trunks. Very smart. But I still can't figure out why-" He cut himself off abruptly at this point, leaving it to dangle annoyingly in the air.

"Why what?" Trunks automatically asked.

Gohan's reply was every bit as automatic. "Never mind."

Trunks let out a frustrated sigh. "Will you just _tell _me, already, Gohan?! I KNOW it has something to do with me and my parents! And I of all people should at least be told about it!"

"You'll find out soon enough," Gohan replied simply.

"You're frustrating!"

"And you're impatient!" Gohan gave his younger friend a stern look. "Honestly, why do you _want _to know so badly? Curiosity killed the cat, if you remember!"

"And the moron who said that 'blessed are the ignorant' should have died too! Preferably painfully," Trunks added dryly as he returned the gaze in a manner that was every bit as stern.

The conversation from there immediately degenerated into a pained silence that seemed to set up an invisible barrier between the duo. Trunks, swiveling his chair around in such a manner so that he was not facing Gohan, inwardly seethed; he was becoming increasingly frustrated by his mentor's secretive approach. Was this how he got his kicks or something, keeping him in the dark like this? And what, really, was the point? What could possibly be so important? There was nothing really secret and dark in his past...right?

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he heard movement somewhere behind him. "Where ARE we?" Yamcha asked them in an awed voice as he stared at the brown, desolate planet hovering into view before them.

"That's Earth," Gohan replied gravely, inclining his head towards the former desert bandit.

"But...but what the hell HAPPENED?" was all he managed to gasp out. "I mean---Earth---it's - it's blue and green and everything - how could THAT mudball be Earth?"

Gohan gave him a sympathetic glance. "It's been quite awhile, you know, Yamcha..."

"But - but -"

Others were now coming up the metal ladder. Almost as if in some ghastly procession, they all climbed up one-by-one, all of them realizing to varying degrees just where exactly they were.

"Guys...what the hell _is _this?!"

"A really bad planetary makeover, that's what!"

"Did---did the Androids manage to do this? How could ANYTHING destroy a planet to that degree?!"

"Wow...Maybe we would have been better off staying dead, if this is what we're coming back to..."

An eerie silence came over the ship as everyone continued to stare at the horrific scene below them. As Gohan slowed the engine and allowed it to glide towards the surface at a snail's pace, more and more traces of the rampant destruction of the past years appeared. The remains of once-great cities littered amongst the ground like discarded toys...skyscrapers, completely snapped in half...the unkept wasteland that now overtook a good three quarters of the globe...it was unnerving even to Trunks and Gohan, though to them notsomuch the planet itself as the reactions of their friends.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it?" Krillin said quietly to no one in particular. "I mean, it couldn't have gotten like this in just a few years...right?"

"Sixteen years," Gohan half-whispered, his eyes fixed on the now barely recognizable West City, which was slowly coming up on the horizon below them. "It's been sixteen years since you all died...Since then the Androids have continued to destroy the Earth. In fact, they'd probably still be doing it now, if not for - if not for---" He slightly inclined his head in Trunks's direction, unable to finish the sentence.

Trunks reddened at all the sudden attention as everyone turned to stare. A sudden rush of emotions coursed through him; emotions of embarrassment, pride, and nervousness, among other things. Although he also noticed that fear was mingled in as well, he was still unsure of just what exactly he was afraid of. Shouldn't he be happy? Shouldn't he be grateful for having gotten so far? Why did he...fear? All he knew was that the fear grew exponentially as the planet loomed ever closer...

The sudden "hmph" snapped him out of his reverie and his heart skipped a beat slightly as he turned to glance at Vegeta, who was standing towards the back, a smug grin plastered on his face. Their eyes locked for a split second, but just a second was enough for Trunks. His father at that point flashed a very uncharacteristic grin at him and then looked away. Trunks turned back around to face the front, the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach beginning to inch upwards. _(How creepy...It's almost like he knows something that I don't. But he doesn't...he wouldn't have an idea yet...would he? And besides, even if he did...wouldn't it just save us the problem of telling him?)_

(I don't know,) Trunks thought as he stared West City in the face, _(But somehow that I'm getting the bad feeling that Gohan must be having...)_

The mood was somber as the gangway was lowered and everyone sauntered outside of the spaceship. The day itself was quite beautiful (though not very green, as the weather had changed dramatically over the course of two decades), but this was lost on everyone as they stepped out into Capsule Corp's large outdoor docking bay, whose dull gray cements and cast iron fencing contrasted sharply with the sharp blue autumn skies, smattered with fast-moving clouds.

Trunks, as he waited for the last of the group to come down, looked around at the busy docking area around him. The employees were still working at repairing the landing sites in the airport sector and a few were mending the fence on the eastern side, but for the most part everything was looking much improved since he had left. _(Man, what to do first?) _he asked himself as he jerked his head towards the main building, where he supposed his mother was. _(I guess...we need to go to Mom first. Maybe SHE can tell me about all this cra---)_

"Trunks! _Trunks!_" a familiar little voice was squeaking. "Trunks! Yay, you're home! _Trunks_!"

He whirled around to the side only to find Puar already flitting around him, shrieking in her shrill little voice and apparently even more bubbly than usual.

"Uh, hi, Puar," was all Trunks managed to proffer as he watched the little blue form flying from up, down, around, and side-to-side.

"Oh, you're finally back! We all missed you so much! We've been waiting for days and days and d----YEAGHHHH!!" Her ecstatic musings had suddenly been cut off when her beady little eyes caught sight of a certain familiar someone making his way down the gangplank...

"_Yamcha!_" she shrieked happily, diving towards him like a speeding bullet. "I- I can't believe it; you're _alive_! YEAH!" She then proceeded to land on his shoulder and nuzzle his face, purring contentedly. "I thought you were dead forever!"

Yamcha stared at her stupidly for a moment, but then broke into a grin and scratched the purring feline's face affectionately. "And I did too, Puar, I did too..." His eyes widened, however, as he turned to get a better look at you. "Hey, Puar, looks like you've gotten a lot olde -er- mature since I left, huh?"

Puar, who had gotten a rather dour look on her face in response to his unguarded comment, managed to retort, "Yeah, and so has Bulma! Better not say that to her or you'll _never _get that wedding ringer on her finger!"

Yamcha sputtered, "Hey! That was a low blow, Puar! You know I was getting close, and-"

Trunks, who had been listening and had been getting increasingly confused throughout the entire conversation, suddenly started as he noticed movement towards the back of the chattering group of the newly-revived. Movement by a short, spiky-hard someone whom also happened to be his father... _(What's he doing NOW?!_) Trunks thought as Vegeta irritably pushed his way past the ecstatic Yamcha and Puar and towards himself. _(And he doesn't look happy, either. Geez, this guy's even more unpredictable than my OTHER dad!)_

He quickly and unfortunately found out, however, when Vegeta came right up to him and grabbed his collar. "_Hey_!" Trunks exclaimed, managing to push him away. "What's the big idea?!"

"_You_, boy," was the growl in response. "You are too much of a threat towards me to live! Therefore I must eliminate you before you grow even stronger than you already are!"

"W-wait a second!" Trunks butted in nervously, quickly realizing the potential of a dangerous situation. "What did I ever do to YOU?! I helped you by reviving you, for crying out loud!" He stared into his father's dark, soulless eyes, so full of pride and determination; his face was set into a definite smirk as he stood there with his hands on his hips, somehow looking as if he was getting some sort of perverse pleasure from being frightening. Not that Trunks was exactly frightened, though; going by the way his father's Ki was beginning to peak, there was no way that even his power level as Super Saiyan was a third of his own. Why, though, was he continuing, when he knew full well that Trunks could probably drop him in a second? Wasn't it technically suicide?

Everyone was watching apprehensively now. The happy chattering amongst everyone had ceased as they noticed the impending fight. A few, Trunks even managed to notice, were staring dully at Vegeta with apparent dislike on their faces.

Looking away for that brief moment had been a mistake for Trunks. WHUMP!! Vegeta's fist suddenly violently connected with his face, taking him completely off guard. Trunks grimaced for a moment, but did not move. Vegeta stared at him with what seemed like amazement for a split second, but he quickly covered it by narrowing his eyes and glaring at his apparently pacifist opponent, who still adamantly refused to move.

"I asked you this once, boy, I'll ask it again: what the HELL _are _you?!" the Saiyan growled, not blinking his eyes for even a split second. "Even those bloody Androids would have been affected like a punch like that! Just _what-_" He paused as a shudder of anger went through his entire body, his overlarge ego apparently having been deflated like a bad tire. "Never mind," he spat, his hair flashing gold as he began the ascension to Super Saiyan. "You're going down!"

Really seeing no way out of this one, Trunks hopped back before his father could attack, knowing that he could and would within seconds. He wished for more than anything to not have to fight, but as Vegeta had other plans, it looked as if he would have to anyway... He ascended into Super Saiyan with a brilliant flash of gold, drawing many admired gasps from those watching (as well as an anguished "I KNEW this would happen!" from Gohan). Even Vegeta couldn't contain the surprise flitting through his rough features; he momentarily stopped in his tracks as he finally recognized Trunks for what he was, unable to fight, speak, or even move.

For a brief happy moment Trunks thought that perhaps Vegeta had been intimidated out of fighting, but that hope was quickly dashed when his father quickly began to form a ball of Ki in his hand. "Saiyan, eh?!" he growled, the electricity from his hand crackling ferociously. "I don't know and I don't care how or why! Either way, we fight!"

Trunks weighed his options carefully. The ball of Ki probably wouldn't hurt him...not much, anyway. But even so, was he going to let Vegeta continue to attack him? Either way, he had to fight...his options were very limited.

"STOP!" The one word shot out at Trunks and Vegeta like a deadly bullet. "STOP STOP STOP _STOP_!!" Trunks let out a gasp as he recognized the voice ringing out at him, and the fragile but determined figure who ran right in the path of Vegeta's still constrained Ki ball.

"MOM!" Trunks shouted desperately, praying that Vegeta would not lose control and hit her. "GET OUT OF THE WAY _NOW!! _ HE'D HIT ANY OF US IN A HEARTBEAT!!"

A/N: I hope that no one's brain exploded in trying to read this chapter. It's bad, I know, but I abhor fics that I don't finish and this is no exception.

At this point I'm very open to any suggestions; I already see a problem with the next chapter and I haven't even written it yet! I will get the next chapter up as soon as I resolve the problem with the plot.

Review!! Review!! Review!!


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